


Mirror, mirror

by Useful_Oxymoron



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F, Mirror Universe, Plot With Smut, Recovery, Redemption, Starting Over, Stranded
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-27
Updated: 2020-05-23
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:08:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 114,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22921537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Useful_Oxymoron/pseuds/Useful_Oxymoron
Summary: After the Battle at Hogwarts, Bellatrix suddenly finds herself... somewhere else. Now has to use all her wits and guile to try to navigate this strange place where so many things are different and people with familiar faces are strangers to her in the hope of finding a way back home. But why does a certain infuriating mudblood insist on pestering her wherever she goes?! Bellamione, of course.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Bellatrix Black Lestrange
Comments: 138
Kudos: 414





	1. Mirror, mirror

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone, and welcome to my new multi-chapter Bellamione story.
> 
> I'll start off by saying that it's a little bit different than my other multi-chapter Bellamione stories, as it's more of a personal story for Bellatrix as she copes with what's happening around her, rather than a series of murder investigations or a world where there's a Cosmic Horror looming over her head. As such, it's quite a bit more light-hearted. Still, the M-rating still applies as there'll be scenes of a sexual nature and some scenes readers might find disturbing.
> 
> Secondly, this story is completely canon compliant, and that even includes the god-awful epilogue. The buck stops at Cursed Child, which I like to pretend never existed anyway.
> 
> Thirdly, as the title of the story implies, it is very loosely based on the classic Star Trek episode Mirror, Mirror. Characters may be different from how you remember them... that's the whole point. :)
> 
> Fourthly, updates will be one new chapter every Saturday, as per usual, barring extraordinary circumstances such as being hit by a truck or going on holiday... hoping for the latter rather than the former.
> 
> I hope you'll enjoy the story.

Exhilaration.

That was the overwhelming feeling when a cackling Bellatrix felt the magic flow through her, all around her. Spells, curses and hexes were crackling through the Great Hall which such ferocity that she could smell the ozone from the magic ionizing the air. This was the moment she was born for: Fighting without mercy for her Lord, for a better, purer world.

She was dueling three witches at once, two blood-traitors and a mudblood. Oh, they were skilled, this she had to admit, but they were never a match for her. When the fat housewitch interfered, Bellatrix bristled. How dare this woman steal her prey from her? The fat housewitch shouted something about her daughter or whatnot, but it was not as if Bellatrix cared: she would deal with this interloper and then go back to finish off the other three.

Block, side-step, retaliate. Block side-sip, retaliate. Bellatrix's movements were as fluent as water as she cleft her wand through the air. It was a war of attrition, one she was absolutely winning. She could see that the fat housewitch was tiring. It made her confident enough to throw in a taunt or two. No specific reason: just a matter of style.

Her magic was flawless... but her timing was off. And the fat housewitch was just a little bit faster than she was. Bellatrix found herself a prisoner of her own body, totally frozen and unable to move. She could see, however, that the fat housewitch was getting ready to make her next move.

It was then that Bellatrix finally realized her mistake. The dark witch tried desperately to break free from the spell, to will the magic inside her body to shatter the curse laid upon her by sheer will. But the fat housewitch had poured all her anger, her passion and her hatred into the spell and Bellatrix wasn't able to make any headway into breaking free before a second curse hit her point-blank in the chest.

Her defenses down, a torrent of magic shot through her. Something... happened. It was much like the feeling of traveling by portkey, the feeling being forced through a tube. But this was much, much worse. A maelstrom of magic swirled around her, and she felt herself being stretched as if she was a strand of spaghetti. Light and energy exploded all around her as her vision was blinded; she could not even shield her eyes by closing them. Shapes and images formed and dissipated, as if she was passing by the pinpricks of light from over a billion stars. If she had been able to scream, she would have. For a moment, it felt as if her body, her soul, were being torn asunder.

Then, as quickly as it hard started, it ended. She felt herself moving until she was violently and unceremoniously deposited on the stone floor of the Great Hall.

The pain in the back of her head was a stark indicator that she was still very much alive, though she still could not move any part of her body, not even her eyes. Her back was went in a somewhat awkward position after having been caught off guard mid-spell and lying on her back in such a frozen state was less than comfortable, to say the least.

Oh, when she'd break free, there'd be hell to pay. She would make that fat housewitch suffer like she had never suffered before!

Still... this was all rather odd. The Great Hall was silent and there was no feeling of magic in the air: certainly not the level of magic that a massive battle would bring. She stared upward towards the ceiling. The _intact_ ceiling. The _intact_ windows letting in the light of the sun. There were no more sounds of battle, no more shouts, no more cries of pain or spells being cast. All was silent except for an odd whirring sound which was seemingly winding down.

Curious.

The Great Hall was one of the first places to be hit. Had she been tossed into a part of the Great Hall which hadn't been damaged by the force of the blast? Yes, she must have been. But... hadn't it still been dark when they had made their attack? This was beyond odd.

Suddenly, however, her vision was blocked by three heads bending over her. Three heads belonging to three people standing over her. Three heads she recognized. One was Draco, her nephew. One was the Lovegood-girl, one of the blood-traitors she'd been dueling earlier. The third one was Potter's brown-haired mudblood friend. They were all wearing equally flabbergasted expressions. All three were wearing Hogwarts uniforms. That wasn't the strange part, however: the strange part was that all three of them were wearing Ravenclaw colors. Why the hell was Draco wearing a Ravenclaw uniform?

They seemed... different somehow, something Bellatrix couldn't help but notice due to her frozen condition. Draco's hair was longer and scruffier and he seemed decidedly less pale. The mudblood looked as muddy as ever, but unlike a few moments ago there's wasn't a single strand of hair out of place in her immaculately brushed coupe which was also a slightly darker shade of brown. The Lovegood-girl looked just as she had a few moments ago, but her eye-color had changed from a bright azure to a deep green.

It was Draco who finally spoke first. "Uhm," he started. " That's… not an apple."

"Startling powers of observation, Draco," replied the Lovegood-girl, adopting a stern expression. She drew her wand and waved a lighted tip in front of her eyes. Bellatrix tried to hiss as the sharp light hit her eyes, but her body refused to respond. "Is she even alive? Her pupils aren't reacting to the light."

"Put that away," the mudblood girl spoke tersely. "You're not doing her any favors by waving that light in her face. She looks stunned… no, frozen. I hope she's okay. Do you think _we_ did this?"

"Weird. Why would she be stunned?" Draco mused.

"A side-effect of the teleportation, probably," spoke the Lovegood-girl. "I don't need to remind you that there's a lot about this type of magic we don't know about. She looks to be in one piece, though."

"Uhm, guys?" the mudblood girl broke in. "Maybe we should get someone."

"I think that's a good idea," said Luna. "She should be examined more closely. If she truly survived a teleportation spell intact..."

"That's not what I mean," said the mudblood girl. "I mean, we should get a healer. Or maybe the goblins? I think she needs to go to the infirmary."

The Lovegood-girl shrugged. "Oh. Well, I guess that would be a good idea. But we should take some magical readings first!"

' _Okay',_ thought Bellatrix. ' _My back is_ really _starting to hurt now.'_ She tried to will the magic keeping her trapped away, but still found herself unable to move. She'd have to get to the bottom of this all. What was going on? Why was the Great Hall so quiet? Had they won the fight? Where was her Lord? Why was Draco fraternizing with the enemy? And a mudblood of all things!

Adding insult to injury, the mudblood girl was all of a sudden hovering right about her, her face scrunched up like a particularly muddy sharpei. "Strange. She… she looks a lot like. Luna, come look. If I didn't know any better, I'd say she's the spitting image of..."

The mudblood never had a chance to finish her thought as a fourth person came running right into the Great Hall. "Did it work?" yelled the fourth person, an adult. She recognized the voice immediately as belonging to Lucius Malfoy. However, she didn't quite recognize the man at first when he was bending over her alongside the three pupils.

Lucius Malfoy had never looked this shabby. His long blonde hair was tied back and spilled over his shoulder. Lucius lacked his usual sense of style, having swapped his expensive robe for a crinkled white coat with many pockets... many pockets with scrolls, notebooks, quills and odd tools sticking out. On his forehead was a complicated looking contraption with all manner of bronze-rimmed lenses piled up and over each other. On his face were glasses. Glasses. Lucius Malfoy and glasses? What on Earth was happening?!

"That's not an apple," spoke man who would be Lucius and bent down one of the lenses on his contraption to apparently study Bellatrix in depth. The dark witch bristled angrily at this embarrassment. Had she been able to move, she would have hexed him on the spot.

"That's what Draco said," said the mudblood girl. "Come on, we have to help her."

Bellatrix was happy that finally one of this lot was being somewhat sensible, despite it being the mudblood. What happened next was in equal manner confusing and embarrassing. A couple of goblins came to lift her off the floor and put her on a gurney. Though she was glad to be off the cold, hard stone floor, it was very much confusing to overhear that the goblins were actually Hogwarts' maintenance staff. But... wasn't that what house-elves were for? Why were _goblins_ working at Hogwarts?

It wasn't until the infirmary that actual shock set in. She had expected to be examined by Madame Pomfrey, because she had been running the infirmary apparently since the dawn of time. However, the healer running the infirmary was someone else entirely.

If she could gasp, she would have. ' _IMPOSSIBLE!'_ Bellatrix screamed in her own mind. Though she was older, she had faced off with this woman in the past. Before Azkaban. The red-haired woman looked to be older, but it was unmistakably her.

Lily Potter.

The dark witch was certain that she was losing her mind. She _knew_ this woman to be dead. Yet here she stood. She looked about twenty years older, but still had that same annoyingly friendly smile of hers. Worst of all, she was _touching_ her. Bellatrix fought for the power to be able to recoil from her, but it was to no avail.

"Oh, dear," Lily spoke while carefully examining her. "Let's make you a bit more comfortable. Can't be good lying in that position."

Kindness in her voice? Was the Potter woman _mocking_ her?!

Despite the insult, relief washed over her when Lily put a supporting pillow in the arch of her frozen back.

"There we go," Lily said, roving a wand over her. "Hm, I see. Powerful binding magic. I realize that being trapped like this can be a bit claustrophobic, but there's no need to be frightened. The spell will wear off soon enough. I'm more worried about the back of your head. From what the kids told me, you certainly hit your head on the floor hard enough to crack the back of your skull. There's no need to be worried. I'll take good care of you."

Frightened?

Worried?!

Bellatrix bristled. Obviously, the Potter woman had no idea whom she was dealing with. Bellatrix Lestrange would not be coddled or pitied! If only she could move or speak, she would give the woman more than a piece of her mind.

"Hm, nothing more than a slight concussion," said the Potter woman. "Once the spell wears off it'll be a while before you regain muscle control. Looks like you'll be my guest for the next couple of hours."

A set of footsteps entered the infirmary and it took a while before the owner of said footsteps came into her field of view. ' _Snivellus?!'_ shot through her mind as she regarded the man. He was... different. Just like everyone else here. Snape was a lot more stylish it seemed. No more greasy hair, but rather long elegant hair tied back in a tail. He wore a gray suit underneath a darker robe and brandished a gentleman's walking stick. Most striking, however, was the neatly trimmed ring-beard which adorned his stern face.

"Lily?" he asked. "How is our guest doing?"

"I've just finished examining her," spoke Lily. "She's unharmed, relatively speaking. In a physical sense, she's definitely malnourished and I get the impression she hasn't been taking proper care of herself. She's suffering from a slight concussion. Nasty bump on the head from the fall, but thankfully no broken bones. There's a powerful stunning spell on her, but that should wear out soon enough. I don't like the look of those teeth of hers, so I'll be sure to give her some dentsurius later. Otherwise, I expect her to make a full recovery."

"Good," said Snape, bending forward. "Madam, I do sincerely apologize for this terrible inconvenience. I promise you that those involved will be dealt with accordingly. I assure you that our infirmary is one of the finest in Scotland and we will see to your recovery."

Bellatrix realized that Snape didn't seem to recognize her. Or perhaps that was simply one of his other lies.A third person came running in. Though she heard the approach, she could not turn her head to see who it was. The voice, however, was enough to identify him. "Ah, there she is!" sounded Lucius. "I have to examine her. I need to ask her a few questions."

Before Lucius had the chance, Snape blocked his approach to her by stepping in front of her. "You will do nothing of the sort, Malfoy," he spoke sternly. "Have you not done enough damage today?"

"I'm telling you, it's working! It worked!" Lucius protested. "The result is spectacular! Beyond our wildest dreams!"

Though she could not see his face with his back turned to her, Bellatrix could just hear that Snape was scowling. "We differ on opinion! As far as I'm concerned, the poor woman lying on that hospital bed confirms just how dangerous teleportation magic truly is!"

"We've teleported a person! A living person!" Lucius raised his voice, the passion in his voice evident. "Tell me that isn't a massive success!"

"You were attempting to teleport an apple," stated Snape with his usual dry drawl when he was about to ask a question he already knew the answer to. "May I ask what has happened to said apple?"

Lucius deflated somewhat. "It… it has yet to appear."

Snape threw up his hands. "I rest my case! I've given you enough leniency already, Lucius. I'm shutting down the experiment, effective immediately. I regret ever letting you run it in the first place!"

"Y-you can't do that! Just look at…"

"Enough, Lucius! You're no longer going to misuse school grounds or equipment for your misguided experiments, nor poison our students' minds," said Snape. "That you ruin your own reputation is bad enough, but I won't let you drag three misguided yet innocent students down into the depths with you! Think of your own son, Lucius."

"Severus, please! We're so close!" came a final desperate plea.

"Enough!" said Snape. "If you continue, I will have you removed from school grounds!"

"Will you two stop it!" Lily said as she stepped in between them. "Don't argue in front of my patient! She requires rest and doesn't need to listen to your bickering."

"Understood," said Snape. "Let us continue this conversation elsewhere. Preferably _off_ school grounds."

The two men left and she could hear the two of them bickering back and forth as they walked down the hallway outside. By now, Bellatrix was relieved that she should move her eyelids again. Though it was still a far cry from being released from this spell, it was a good enough start. She finally started to feel just how soul-crushingly tired she was... from the fighting, from the excitement, from... whatever had happened to her. She tried to fight it, but as soon as her eyes fluttered shut she fell into a dreamless sleep.

* * *

When her eyes fluttered open again, the room was darker. She found that she could move her neck again. As well as the rest of her body. Still, her body protested as her muscles were still uncooperative. Bellatrix let out a deep, involuntary groan as she tried to will her body to move.

"Hey, hey," Lily was upon her. "Easy. You're still recovering. Can you speak?"

The attempted 'bugger off' Bellatrix wanted to throw in her face came out as a strangled 'urrrkkk'.

"That's a no," said Lily. "You can tell me your name later. I'm Lily, by the way. Lily Snape, the school healer. Pleased to meet you."

Lily...

… SNAPE?!

Bellatrix gasped. Just what the hell was going on?! What kind of madhouse had she found myself in?!

It was then that Bellatrix spotted her wand lying on a desk near her bed. She lay down again as Lily excused herself to mix a potion for her... and turned her back to her. Quickly, Bellatrix weighed her options. Obviously, she could make a grab for the wand and attempt escape. However, that would be quite difficult. There was no place in the UK as heavily warded as Hogwarts. She wouldn't be able to apparate away until she was off school grounds. Dark magic was mostly blocked.

Perhaps... she could take Lily hostage. Yes. Take the wand and jab it in against her neck. Drag her along with her. But then again, her body was still struggling to respond to her command. She was simply too weak still. Lily could easily wriggle free or, to be fair, in her current state she was likely to fall over just getting off the bed.

She looked around for other options and found tray with medical equipment much closer to her bed. One item in particular caught her eye: a small pair of scissors used to cut bandages off the roll. It was short, but very, very sharp. The dark witch spread her fingers and willed magic to flow from her body. A wandless, silent _accio_ later and the pair of scissors was in her hand. While Lily still had her back turned to her, she quickly hid the tiny pair of scissors up her sleeve. If push came to shove, she could use it as a punch-dagger. Somehow, it made her feel a little more secure to simply have a weapon at the ready, should she need it.

But no, this wasn't the right time to make her move. She'd just have to bide her time for now and wait for an opportunity to arise. By now, Lily was ready mixing her potion and turned around to find Bellatrix trying to raise herself from the bed. "Hey, calm down," she said, moving to support her. "You're still feeling the effect of the stun and your muscles are as stiff as a board. I'll give you something that'll help you relax."

Bellatrix bristled as Lily moved to put a potion to her lips. A thousand-and-one thoughts shot through her mind as she regarded Lily warily. Could this be poison? Or just a botched potion? The woman was a mudblood after all. Eventually, she simply decided to take the hit for now and punish the woman later if something was wrong with the potion.

The potion was actually quite soothing as it slid down her throat; a pleasant and unexpected surprise. She felt more relaxed, her head started to hurt less and she felt she could breathe more calmly. There was, however, and sharp and tingly sensation in her mouth for a moment which she found out. When she tried to raise a hand to her lips, Lily spoke.

"I've mixed in some Dentsurius. Seriously, you should brush more often. Far too many people don't bother to brush these days because Dentsurius exists for a quick fix for cavities and tooth rot, but in my experience prevention is the best cure," said Lily and help up a small hand-mirror.

Bellatrix was surprised to see pristine white teeth when opened her mouth. She was a prideful creature and knew that Azkaban had taken a toll on her. Being a witch on the run, however, didn't give her much opportunity to have her former beauty restored: her rotten teeth were a constant source of shame in particular. But she had never heard of magic which could restore teeth so quickly and painlessly.

"And take better care of yourself," said Lily. "You have not been eating well as of late, haven't you?"

Bellatrix could not yet speak, but shook her head 'no'.

"Well, when you're feeling better," said Lily. "I'll be happy to set up a better dietary plan for you. I'm curious, though..."

Bellatrix gave her a look.

"Your corset," said Lily. "That's... dragon leather, isn't it? Such an odd design and so magic-resistant that it threw off my examination at first. Are you an auror?"

Bellatrix decided it was best not to answer for now.

"It's not like any auror uniform I recognize and, well, if I didn't know any better, I'd say it's battle-armor," replied Lily. Truth be told, this line of inquiry was starting to make Bellatrix more than a little nervous. It dawned on her that this was likely nothing more than magic trickery: a series of illusions specifically designed to catch her off guard. But why? Had she been captured? She knew they could never breach her mind: nobody had ever been able to. So they must have put up this farce to trick her into divulging... whatever it was they wanted her to divulge.

Her body was regaining its strength and soon she'd be able to walk again. This would be the moment to strike.

The wand was still out of reach, but she still had the small pair of scissors. She fumbled a little and worked two fingers through the eyes of the scissors, hiding the sharp end out of sight. It would be a small matter to lash out, grab the fake Lily by the hair and give her a few jabs to the side of the neck. Then, she would clean up the blood, hide the body in the cupboard and make for the nearest secret passage which, if she remembered correctly, was only one floor down and led to the lakeside. From there she'd flee back to the Death Eater encampment in the Forbidden Forest.

The fake Lily was mucking about the potion cabinet now, but quickly turned around to walk back towards her.

Closer.

Her body tensed, ready to strike. Her grip on the scissors tightened.

Just a little bit closer.

Lily Snape would never know just how close to death she had come. Just before Bellatrix was able to strike at her, she was startled by the sound of approaching footsteps and quickly hid the scissors in her sleeve again, doing her best to look innocent and demure as Lily put another potion to her lips.

Snivellus had returned, looking is unusual dapper self. "Ah, Lily, is your patient up and about?"

"Not quite up, but certainly about, Severus," Lily smiled.

"Good," said Snape. "Madam, Head Master Dumbledore would like to see you as your earliest convenience."

Bellatrix's eyes grew wide. ' _Dumbledore?!'_ she hissed inwardly, absolutely regretting not attempting an escape when she had the chance.

"Oh, before I forget, here is your wand," said Lily, holding out the curved dueling wand for her to take.

Bellatrix stared at her incredulously. If they were trying to trick her or had captured her, why on Earth would they even consider giving her her wand back?

Nothing about this made any sense at all. The dark witch carefully took the wand and kept it close to her. It was definitely her beloved old wand and not a fake, as she expected.

For now, she would simply have to go along with whatever would happen and perhaps a new opportunity would arise.

* * *

Everything about this madness she was going through was getting stranger and stranger. The goblins, once again, helped her off the bed and, as soon as she could take her first steps, carefully guided her towards the Head Master's office. In her youth, she had made plenty of visits to the Head Master's office, but what she saw when she entered the office surprised her to no end.

Goats everywhere. Figures. Wood carvings. Paintings. Statues. Everything except a real goat, unless there was one hiding underneath the desk. And, strangest of all, she found herself sitting opposite from the _wrong_ Dumbledore.

Behind the desk sat the stern and gruff Aberforth Dumbledore. His long gray beard swayed a little as he moved. Next to him stood Snape with his arms folded behind his back. On a bench to their side sat the three pupils, Draco, the Lovegood-girl and the brown-haired mudblood. Lucius, however, was nowhere to be seen.

Bellatrix found the mudblood to be especially irritating: the girl was leaning forward, constantly scrutinizing her. Worst thing yet, whenever Bellatrix looked in her general direction, the girl gave her a coy smile. It made Bellatrix narrow her eyes and she promised herself she'd find the opportunity to capture the girl again and use her dagger to write 'nosy git' in the flesh of her _other_ forearm.

"Do you three realize just how much trouble you are in?" Snape said. "If this poor woman had been seriously injured or worse, you would have been responsible."

"Now, now, Severus," said Dumbledore. "I'm sure we can all agree that this was an unfortunate accident. The experiment they helped with was purely to teleport an apple from the courtyard to the Great Hall. Nothing more, nothing less. All things considered, you were very lucky, madam. Teleportation magics are wild and unpredictable. That you arrived alive and one piece is a miracle in itself."

Draco raised his head. "Head Master, was it really necessary to have my father removed from school grounds?" There was spite in his voice, indignation and shame.

"It was!" Snape interjected. "Boy, your loyalty to your father is commendable, but do not test our patience!"

"Severus, please," said Dumbledore, causing this odd version of Snivellus to settle down somewhat. "Madam, please do accept our sincere apologies. We'll return you to wherever it is you were teleported from as you as you can tell us where to return you to."

Bellatrix narrowed her eyes as she regarded the people in the room. The mudblood was still staring. Bellatrix glared back.

"The Great Hall," said Bellatrix, her voice still a rasp.

"Yes," said Aberforth. "That was where you emerged. But where did you come from?"

Bellatrix glared again. "I told you. The Great Hall."

Aberforth and Snape exchanged a look, while the mudblood's face seemed to light up.

"Uhm, I see," said Aberforth. "Severus told us you hit your head when you..."

"Don't insult me," Bellatrix hissed in interruption. "I just told you where I came from. I don't know what kind of game you lot are playing or whatever trap you are trying to lure me into, but you won't pull the wool over my eyes! You're not the _real_ Dumbledore! You're just the idiot bartender brother! I won't... be... fooled!"

Gasps sounded. Aberforth's expression darkened considerably, while Snape looked flabbergasted. Draco and the Lovegood-girl sat frozen in shock while the mudblood girl was even more intrigued.

Snape leaned in to Dumbledore. "She _did_ hit her head earlier today," he whispered, just audible enough for Bellatrix to hear.

"I understand you're upset," spoke Aberforth, a hint of poorly masked anger on his voice. "But there's no need to be rude. Albus… made his choice a long time ago."

"Who are you?" Snape demanded.

This was it. The prideful Bellatrix would not back down. She never had. Not when the Council of Magical Law had her chained to a chair during her trial. Not during her captivity. And certainly not now. She would face her enemies with pride like she'd always had.

"Bellatrix Lestrange," Bellatrix hissed.

And.

Nothing.

An uncomfortable silence followed as Snape and the Head Master shared an odd look.

"Is that supposed to mean something?" Snape crossed his arms.

There was not a hint of recognition to the mention of her name: A name which made the wizarding world tremble. Even her own nephew Draco was looking at her quizzically. It was, however, the mudblood who would respond.

"I KNEW IT!" she rose from the bench with a broad grin on her face. "I _FUCKING_ KNEW IT!"

"Miss Granger! Language!" Snape admonished. "You've been warned before!"

"I have a theory of what might have happened!" the mudblood exclaimed, ignoring Snape.

The lovegood-girl buried her face in her palms. "Oh dear Merlin, here we go."

"Don't you see? It's so obvious!" said the mudblood. "She's not from another place. She's from another... universe. Another reality!"

The Lovegood-girl groaned. "Oh, Hermione, why do you always _do_ this?! You always cling to the single most far-fetched and impossible explanation you can think of! That's all you ever do! It's far more likely that this woman was just teleported out of Hogsmeade and got her memories messed up by hitting her head on the floor. This woman is _not_ a trans-dimensional traveler!"

"No, no, it's perfectly possible!" the mudblood raved. "She said she started out at the Great Hall right? That's likely the Great Hall in her universe and she was teleported from there into the Great Hall in our universe. When we tried to teleport our apple, the magic we used somehow connected to the use of powered magic in her universe and dragged her into ours! The theory of magic supports this completely. I mean, that stunner spell wasn't caused by our experiment, but it could have been what carried her across the fabric of realities."

"Do you know how ludicrous that sounds, Hermione?" the Lovegood-girl retorted angrily. "For this to be true, the flow of magic we used in our experiment should have exactly the same magnitude, exactly the same phase-frequency, exactly the same directional flow and happen in exactly the same location as the flow of magic in _her_ world. The chances of that happening are astronomically low! Think one in a trillion to the tenth power low!"

Bellatrix was a little disturbed by the passion in the mudblood's voice, especially when she animatedly moved through the room and stood next to her. "And yet… here she is. Improbable doesn't mean impossible, Luna! Come on, you all know who she looks like. And it completely explains why she's older. And why she doesn't know who Albus Dumbledore is! She's not from this world!"

"Hermione, you are a complete and utter loo..." the Lovegood-girl started to say, when Draco lay a hand on her shoulder.

"Alright, calm down, Schwarzenegger," he told the Lovegood-girl. "Dreamer," he said, addressing the mudblood girl. "You have to admit it sounds a little far-fetched."

"Not you too, Draco," the mudblood seemed disappointed. "Come on, it's why we didn't find any trace of our apple either! The apple must have ended up in the universe she came from!"

"Ahum," sounded Aberforth. "That is quite enough, children. Get some rest. It's been an eventful day for all of us."

"But..." the mudblood started to say.

"Miss Granger! Enough!" Aberforth raised his finger and the mudblood immediately deflated. She seemed resigned for now and withdrew from the room with her two friends, giving one final almost wistful look in her direction. Bellatrix made sure to shoot her the dirtiest look she could muster.

"Please, may I speak with the lady in private, Severus?"

"Of course. If that is all, I've heard enough for today," said Snape. "Aberforth, we'll speak later."

And so, Dumbledore and Bellatrix sat facing each other in silence for a few moments. It was Aberforth whom eventually broke the silence. "I sense no lies from you," said Aberforth. " We'll try to contact the Lestrange family for confirmation. Let me ask, was your maiden name Black?"

Bellatrix nodded. "Yes."

"Curious. And the resemblance. Uncanny. Would you follow me, please?" Aberforth said while getting up. Together, the Head Master and a wary Bellatrix walked side by side through the meandering halls of Hogwarts, passing curious students along the way. From her time at this school, she knew that she was being led towards the astronomy tower. In front of the tower, near the entrance, stood a life-sized statue... of herself.

The statue was a perfect likeness of her, age forever frozen at age seventeen, determined look on her face, wand in one hand and the other hand outreached towards the entrance of the tower. Her hair was a little straighter, but it might as well have been an old photograph. A bronze plaque was attached to the base of the statue:

' _In Loving Memory Of Bellatrix Black,_

_1951-1968_

_May her boundless courage forever continue to inspire'_.

Bellatrix turned to Aberforth and offered him a questioning look.

"Madam Lestrange, you will be our guest until we have sorted this matter out. I will have the goblins prepare suitable guest-quarters for you. Now, I don't know if miss Granger's theory is true, or that you have simply lost your memory. But I will tell you this: if you are here to besmirch the good name of one of the bravest souls whom has ever walked these halls, I swear you will regret it."

Aberforth stepped off, leaving a gobsmacked Bellatrix to stare at the statue.

Apparently this place, where ever she was, had decided that she was dead. Bellatrix was determined to prove it wrong.


	2. This Side of Paradise

It was only when she was in privacy of the guestroom and absolutely sure that she was completely alone that Bellatrix gave voice to the frustration plaguing her ever since being deposited on the floor of the Great Hall this morning. She growled, launched towards the bed and shrieked into the soft pillow to muffle the sounds of the screams that followed. Her chest heaving, she snarled and she took out her wand to search for something to destroy. Bellatrix hissed as she aimed at the chair, the armoire, the bed and even the mirror, before deciding to toss down her wand and scream into the pillow once again.

She bristled and shook as she paced the room back and forth.

What was going on?

What the hell was going on?

She let today's events run through her mind again and again, trying to make sense of all it. She was fighting, and then she was not. She met Draco, who was not Draco. Snape, who was not Snape. Lily Potter, somehow alive and whom was now Lily Snape of all things. The Lovegood-girl, who was not the Lovegood-girl. The _wrong_ Dumbledore and... well, at least that horrible mudblood was still the same. Or so she thought, never having paid much attention to mudbloods and their ilk. And then, she was dead... and yet not. It was driving her even barmier than usual.

Part of her still considered this was some sort of trick. The Order of the Phoenix might be messing with her mind to try to get her to betray information about her Lord somehow. But... that wouldn't make sense. Hogwarts was intact: the damage they did to the school would take months to repair it. And Draco would never go along with it in either case, that much she was certain of.

She had an idea. Her Dark Mark. Yes. She had only to press her wand against her Dark Mark. Summon her Lord. Certainly, she risked being punished but right now that seemed acceptable. She unbuttoned her sleeve and rolled it up, only to gasp in despair when she realized that her Dark Mark had turned red like it had been in the years she had spent in Azkaban: It had become inactive.

"No," she whispered in shock, rubbing her arm desperately as if that would activate it again. "No, no, no, no, no, no!"

Her Dark Mark stayed red, despite her best efforts.

This couldn't be happening. This was impossible. Unless... Bellatrix closed her eyes. Could that stupid mudblood's outlandish theory be actually true? That her Dark Mark had become inactive because she and her Lord were literally worlds apart?

The implication was staggering. To be stuck in a different world entirely?! Among people who were different but wore familiar faces?! A world where nobody even knew who she even was?!

Bellatrix stopped in her tracks, only just realizing what had just shot through her mind.

' _Nobody knows me here,'_ the dark witch contemplated. That much was obvious. If they had truly known whom she was, what she was capable of... they wouldn't have hesitated to clap her in irons to cart her off back to Azkaban.

But they hadn't.

"Nobody..." she whispered to an empty room, letting it roll off her tongue. "... knows me here."

Though it still took a while for the weight of that statement to sink in properly, hearing her own voice speak those word gave it endless gravity.

The prospect was more than a little alluring. She'd been either imprisoned or on the run for the larger part of her life. To be able to move freely. Go where she pleased. Do what she wanted to do. Such amazing amounts of freedom she had suddenly regained. She'd no longer be a wanted witch.

It took her a few moments to wrap her mind around the concept of being able move freely without fear of capture.

"Alright, Bella, keep calm," she told herself. "Let's be Slytherin about this."

Her problem, for the time being, was that she was in another world. And she needed to find a way back to her own world and to her Lord. So far, these people here seemed perfectly willing to help her with that problem. Bellatrix rubbed her chin as she weighed her options.

To everyone here, she was just a cooky lady who appeared out of nowhere and who happened to look a lot like the local hero.

She sat on the bed and regarded her room. It was certainly a lot nicer than anywhere she had stayed the past eighteen years. All she had to do was to play along. Just smile and nod. Be a good little girl and enjoy having a bit of a rest.

' _Be nice. Be polite. Don't muddle the waters. Enjoy your freedoms while they are at your disposal._ '

She could do that... mostly.

The dark witch was momentarily startled by a knock on the door. She narrowed her eyes as she got up from the bed, approaching the door warily. A second knock sounded; grasping her wand behind her back in case of trouble, Bellatrix slowly opened the door.

' _Oh, it's the mudblood,'_ Bellatrix thought with a groan as she was face to face with an annoyingly cheerful brown-haired mudblood girl, holding what looked to be a gift-basket filled with all sorts of different fruits. The mudblood offered her a warm smile, clad in her Ravenclaw uniform and her long brown hair tried back in a tail which almost reached the small of her back.

"What do you want?!" she hissed, but instantly changed her mind. ' _Be Slytherin about this'_ she repeated to herself, thinking that this might be an excellent opportunity to learn something more about this strange new world. Fighting her growing inner revulsion at being anywhere near a mudblood, she forced a smile. "I mean... why are you here?"

The mudblood, on her part, seemed unphased by Bellatrix's initial rudeness. "Oh, I just came to see how you were settling in."

"Well... I've only just been in this room for about ten minutes," Bellatrix shrugged. "Would... you... like... to come in?" she forced through gritted teeth, hating the idea of this insipid mudblood dragging her muddy feet all over the carpet.

"Thank you," smiled the mudblood. "Oh, my name's Hermione Granger. I brought you a welcoming gift," she said while extending her hand.

The dark witch stared at it for a moment before she shook it back. It took every bit of willpower she had to not immediately run to the sink to rinse her hands. "Bellatrix," she replied. "Bellatrix Black," opting to mantle the name of the young hero she had apparently been in this world. Perhaps that would make people more talkative around her.

"I know!" the mudblood replied eagerly. "That's amazing, isn't it? I mean... oh wow, that's such a cool tattoo!"

The dark witch cursed inwardly when she realized that she had foolishly forgotten to cover up her Dark Mark. As the two sat down at the table, the mudblood took a longer look at her Dark Mark. "That looks so well done! I like the tattoo on your neck too. What does it mean?"

Her Azkaban tattoo? Interesting. Apparently, the mudblood didn't knew what it meant.

"Hm," replied Bellatrix, thinking for a moment. "It stands for a foolish youth, to be honest."

"Hah," said the mudblood and rolled up her own sleeve. On her inner wrist, where Bellatrix had her Dark Mark, the mudblood had a tattoo as well. It was of a curvy delta with some sort of elongated star at the center. "Had this done on a trip to Edinburgh. The artist did a really nice job."

"It is... nice..." Bellatrix lied, only now realizing that this strange tattoo was in almost exactly the same location as she had written the word 'mudblood' in her flesh. The fact that it was gone was slightly disturbing. At first she thought that she might have used the tattoo to cover it up, but the tattoo didn't seem large enough to do so and, even if it was, a tattoo wouldn't cover up a cursed wound.

' _Other world'_ , she reminded herself.

"Thank you," replied the mudblood. "I have another one on the back my shoulder," she said, pointing to her left shoulder. "But that's just a small quote."

"Fascinating," Bellatrix replied in a slow drawl, barely able to hide her boredom and disdain.

The mudblood opened her mouth, but then cocked her head sideways. "Wh- How'd you know?" she asked.

"What?" Bellatrix frowned in confusion before shaking her head. She bent forward to look the girl in the eyes, eager for a change of subject. It was time to mine this muddy girl for some information. "Tell me... miss Granger," she asked.

"Oh, just Hermione, please," the mudblood gave her a friendly smile. It made Bellatrix want to vomit.

"Hermione," she forced herself to say the name. "Today's happenings have been a bit... confusing to say the least. Tell me, when I appeared in the Great Hall this morning, just what was it you were trying to do?"

"Ah," Hermione said. "Myself and my friends Luna and Draco were trying to help Lucius... uhm, Mr. Malfoy with an experiment he's been running. Mr. Malfoy has been pestering Professor Snape to run his experiment at Hogwarts for months now. It was going to be a proof on concept, you see? I'm not really interested in the magic itself, but I helped build a lot of the frameworks and machinery itself."

' _Not interested in magic? Interesting',_ Bellatrix considered. "That still doesn't explain what you were trying to do."

"Teleportation magic," Hermione said, as if that was supposed to explain everything. When Bellatrix remained silent, Hermione continued. "You see, Hogwarts has some very delicate, very _expensive_ measuring equipment which Mr. Malfoy can't afford. We were hoping to use that equipment to take readings and adjust the flow of magic through the machinery. We were trying to teleport an apple from the courtyard to the Great Hall."

That was a surprise. What the girl had just described was magic of the most basic level, but the way she was talking about it made it seem as if it was miraculous. The dark witch was only more determined to ask more.

"I take it, it didn't work," said Bellatrix.

"It did!" Hermione smiled broadly. "You are here, after all. I'd say the experiment was a great success beyond our wildest dreams!"

"That is up for debate," Bellatrix hissed through clenched teeth, letting the mask slip somewhat.

"Have you ever heard of Gotthard Rimensberger? In your world, I mean?" Hermione asked.

"No," Bellatrix lied, trying to remain innocent about it.

"Gotthard Rimensberger was a German wizard who lived in the 11th century, and the first person to do real research into teleportation magic," Hermione said. "According to his diaries, he had managed to teleport small objects with the use of a contraption of his own creation. But he was bold and daring and brave enough to attempt to teleport himself from Bremen to Hamburg. Bold, but not very smart as it turned out. In front of a roaring crowd gathered to see this new magic in the flesh, he stepped into the funnel in Bremen, while another crowd was waiting for him to emerge from the other funnel in Hamburg. Well, his top half arrived in Hamburg just fine. Unfortunately, his arse ended up in a field near Münster."

"I see," Bellatrix frowned.

"Teleportation magic was declared dangerous and research into it was heavily restricted. Many later wizards and witches attempted to crack the problem, but with always fatal or near-fatal results. Nowadays, teleportation magic is considered a fringe field of magical theory. Mr. Malfoy is convinced it can work and with the help of Gotthard's original diaries and schematics, the four of us have recreated his contraption. We're continuing the work he's started."

Bellatrix nodded. "Well, for someone not interested in magic, you certainly know a lot about it."

Hermione shrugged with a smile. "What can I say, I like to explore so-called impossibilities. I see them as a challenge."

' _Curious'_ , thought Bellatrix. Of course she had heard of Gotthard Rimensberger. He was one of the most famous wizards alive – a pioneer in the field of teleportation magics. In her world, the experiment to teleport himself from Bremen to Hamburg had been an amazing success and had opened up teleportation magic as a field of research. This further led into the development of the floo network, portkeys and apparation spells, things Bellatrix used on a daily basis.

Bellatrix questioned Hermione a little and she revealed that most wizarding transportation was done through hidden trains, underwater ships and, amazingly enough, flying carpets. Flying carpets were the main mode of personal transportation, as they could be used to carry cargo. Brooms were used, but were considered to be luxury products, used only by a small minority of wizards and witches.

The dark witch carefully touched on the subject of floo network, portkeys and apparation, but the mudblood didn't appear to recognize any of them. Which meant either one of two things: either they didn't exist in this world at all, or the mudblood was too dimwitted to understand the hints she was dropping. Bellatrix guessed it was the former rather than the latter.

They chatted a bit more and Bellatrix shared some tidbits from her own world which the mudblood girl lapped up like an eager puppy. She was careful not to give away too many details and could see in the girl's eyes that she was aching to know more.

Good.

Bellatrix could and _would_ exploit that.

Keep her hanging for now so she could mine her for more information later; that sounded like a good plan. The girl obviously had some sense of what was happening, probably more than anyone else. She should hear her out, carefully ask her some questions.

By now, it was starting get dark outside. But Bellatrix still wanted to know some more details. "What about... the other me. The Bellatrix Black from this world. Dumbledore took me to see a statue of her."

"Oh, yes, of course," Hermione nodded. "Everybody here knows her story."

"Everyone but me," Bellatrix pressed.

"I guess so. I'll tell you the story then. Back in 1968, our you was in her seventh year," said Hermione. "She loved flying her carpet in her off hours, making loops around the castle walls and circling the towers. At the same time, a group of students were doing some early evening stargazing for a homework assignment. There was an accident. Nobody's really sure what happened, but a fire broke out. Many of the students were trapped on the upper floors, one of them being Bellatrix's younger sister Andromeda. But Bellatrix... our Bellatrix... didn't hesitate for a moment. With wand in hand, she rushed into the burning building."

Bellatrix nodded. She understood. There had been a time when she would have done everything for her sister. But that was before she became a blood-traitor. Before she betrayed her family. Before Andie was dead to her.

"She hexed the flames, blasted the burning beams and managed to get the trapped students through the smoke and flames, guiding them outside and to safety," said Hermione. "Unfortunately, Andromeda was not among the students. She was still inside the burning building. So Bellatrix went back inside, braving the fire again to help her sister. Bellatrix... our Bellatrix struggled to find her sister, but eventually did. She managed to get Andromeda out just as the tower collapsed."

Hermione cast her eyes downward. "But not herself. Her sister was safe, but our Bellatrix perished in the flames."

' _Fool. Stupid fool,'_ Bellatrix thought wryly. Her other self had been a complete moron! She had gone in to save her sister and didn't manage to check for her the first time. If she had, she would have been still alive.

What a sad, pathetic waste.

Bellatrix nodded. "How awful," she pretended to be sincere. "Is that why she was given a statue?"

"Many young wizards and witches owe her their lives," said Hermione. "The statue was commissioned to honor her memory and her sacrifice."

"I see," said Bellatrix. "Well, no such fire broke out in my world and I can safely say I didn't perish in any flames."

"I can see that," Hermione smiled. "It's what tipped me off to you being a trans-dimensional traveler. You look so much like her and everybody knows who you are. Well, _our_ you, I mean. The moment I heard your name, I knew my theory had to be correct."

"Tell me," Bellatrix asked. "What's up with Albus Dumbledore? Why is that such a touchy subject? In my world, he is nothing more than a stuffy Head Master."

"A-albus Dumbledore was Head Master in your world?" Hermione blinked in disbelief, as if her mind was incapable for grasping the subject. "That's unbelievable! The story about the Albus Dumbledore... I'm not sure where to begin. It's a long and sordid tale. To keep a long story short, Albus Dumbledore joined forces with another dark wizard named Gellert Grindelwald and together they started an underground war until a coalition of wizards and muggles were able to put a stop to them back in 1929. It took everything we had to stop them. Understandably, the Head Master takes a very dim view of his older brother. I think sharing a last name with him embarrasses him. That whole war did bring the muggle and wizarding world closer together, though, so that's something at least."

' _Yes,'_ Bellatrix fumed. ' _Something bad!'_

Looking at the window, she could see it was fully dark outside and for now she had learned enough. She needed some time to process all the things she had picked from the mudblood's brain. "Miss Granger..."

"Hermione, please. Call me Hermione."

"Hermione, then," said Bellatrix. "If you don't mind, it's been a very draining day."

"Oh, say no more, I quite understand," said Hermione. "If you're ever in the mood to talk or have any questions, I'd be happy to lend an ear."

"I'll keep that in mind, thank you," she forced a smile while she walked Hermione to the door.

Once Hermione was outside, she gave Bellatrix a warm smile. "Good evening. Enjoy your night's rest."

"Good evening," Bellatrix replied as she closed the door, and allowed the revulsion she had been holding in to come to the surface again. "... you filthy mudblood piece of _offal_!"

Oh, letting that out certainly felt better.

Bellatrix raced to the sink and started vigorously rinsing her hands to quickly scrub all traces of mudblood from her hands. Ugh, how awful to have to interact with such a pathetic, loathsome creature. And for such a long time too! There wasn't enough soap in the world to deal with this!

But, she reminded herself, it was for a good cause and her learned quite a lot. Teleportation magic did not exist in this world, and teleportation magic was a field of magic she had mastered. There might be an opportunity to exploit this.

She dried her hands and felt how tired she was. Going to bed sounded like a good idea, but she stopped by the fruit basket for an apple or two first. Sure, Hermione Granger might be an insufferable mudblood, but Bellatrix had to admit that the fruit basket had been a rather thoughtful gift.

* * *

Three days had passed since her arrival in this strange new world. And those three days, she had mostly spent inside her room. First of all, now that she had a moment of downtime, it had become apparent just how much she needed a moment to relax and recover. She'd been running herself ragged ever since her escape from Azkaban and, while the whole matter of being transported to another world was being sorted out, a rest might be just what she needed. Fourteen hours of uninterrupted sleep per night was an absolute godsend.

Of course, she wasn't alone. The Lily Potter facsimile had dropped by several times to give her a check up, which she grinned and bared through, especially when presented with her new dietary plan. At the time, she thought that had meant eating less and mostly greens, but Lily Snape revealed it her plan wasn't about eating less, but eating the right things. So, Bellatrix was put on a meat-heavy, low-sugar diet and it, along with the rest, was already having an effect.

Standing in front of the mirror, she saw that she was getting much more color back to her face, her cheeks were less sunken and her eyes were far less dull. Of course, it also helped that, as far as Bellatrix was concerned, the goblin hairdresser on staff was an absolute genius. The she-goblin had come to her room to do a superb job with her mane: neatly trimmed waves of obsidian cascaded over her shoulders, accentuating her porcelain skin. With a smile, she applied some eye-shadow and adorned her lips with a ruby red lipstick. To her delight, she was regaining much of her former beauty: in fact, she looked years younger.

Finishing the image was a set of new clothes. Most prominent was a wide, flowing robe, while the top under her robe was a stylish gray. It had a high neckline with a playful frilly ruffle from neck to chest. A flowing long skirt matched the robe. Her new set of clothes looked far less intimidating than her dragon-leather corset, but considering she was trying to keep a low profile, that wasn't necessarily a bad thing. The fabric was nice and soft and the set accentuated her figure quite nicely. It was oddly reminiscent of the staff uniforms the professors wore.

A grin formed on her ruby-red lips. These people were making her job much easier. She was well aware that people tended to open up much easier to those with good looks.

And perhaps she would need it. There was a note on her desk from Aberforth Dumbledore, asking her to come see him in his office later in the day. Bellatrix was feeling more confident to head out today, to enjoy her newfound freedom and show off her stunning looks. It wouldn't take long before she took her first steps outside of the room, part of her still expecting a group of aurors to nab her to cart her off back to Azkaban... but nothing happened and the halls remained silent.

The fresh air did wonders and she strode across the halls and through the courtyards. At least the building itself was much the same, even if the occupants were different. Apparently, the time she picked to take her walk coincided with a break-time for the students. Children of all ages were milling about and she passed a group of students whom had just come back from the fields for flying practice... with rolled up carpets strapped to their backs.

Flying carpets.

Merlin. She'd never get used to that.

She passed a group of witchlings who were quick to point her out. As she should have expected, the good old Hogwarts rumor mill had been doing its thing the past three days. No doubt there'd be a wide variety of crazy stories being told about her. She caught some whispers to the effect of 'wow, look how much she resembles her', until she snapped her head towards them and silenced the clutch of witchlings with a severe glower. That shut them up quickly enough.

She made her way across grounds when she spotted her nephew sat underneath an awning on top of one of the castle parapets flipping through a coursebook with those two others being nowhere in sight. Sensing an opportunity, she steered towards him and made her way up the stairs. She quickly saw why Draco had chosen this spot: beyond the wall was a lovely view of the lake and the Forbidden Forest in the distance.

Draco was too engrossed in his reading to notice her approach until she was so close to him that she was starting to block his light. Draco then looked up from his reading. "Oh, hello!" he greeted cheerfully. "Out and about, I see? How are you today?"

So far, the lad seemed to be calm and polite, lacking the air of arrogance that his counterpart in her own world had. Bellatrix sat down on the bench opposite to him. "Yes," she said. "I'm feeling much better, thank you."

"No ill effect from... you know... what happened?"

"Other than a bump on the head, no," said Bellatrix.

"Good to hear," said Draco. "I hear Dreamer has been by your quarters a couple of times. So I guess I don't have to explain to you what happened. And what predicament we are in."

"She told me about your father's experiment," said Bellatrix. "Has he been in contact with Dumbledore about it?"

Draco sighed. "No. Professor Snape had him escorted off and banned from school grounds for the time being. He blew a gasket when he found out you had appeared in the Great Hall. Snape has always been against the teleportation experiment... Anyway, I'm glad you're doing better. And that you suffered no permanent effects from the teleportation. Trust me, others have fared far worse."

Bellatrix nodded. The Draco of this world was apparently a well-meaning lad with a good heart. She didn't disapprove.

"So, I guess you're my aunt," Draco smiled. "Technically at least. I suppose we should think of a new family term. Trans-dimensional aunt? Would that work? Do I exist in your world, by the way? I'm quite curious about that. What am I like?"

Bellatrix ignored Draco's line of questioning and steered the conversation. "So... you believe the story your friend came up with?"

Draco shrugged. "It seems more likely by the day, to be honest. And Dreamer can be quite convincing when she wants to be. She can't stop talking about it. Or you."

Bellatrix took note of that information and cocked her head sideways. "Have you told your parents? About me, I mean?"

Draco put down his book and put his hand to his chin as he was seemingly lost in thought. "I've been thinking about that. Obviously dad knows about you, but he doesn't know _who_ you are. As far as he's concerned, you're just the strange lady who was teleported out of nowhere during his experiment. He's been sending me letters after letters the past couple of days. He desperately wants to examine you. And I desperately want to help him. I know how much this experiment means to my father. He's an inventor you see? And he's been searching for the answer to teleportation his whole life."

"Indeed," Bellatrix nodded. More interesting information. Lucius, like many other people in this world, was apparently a very different man in this reality. There might even be a small chance that this world's Lucius was less of a useless twat than her own world's Lucius. One could only hope.

"Don't get me wrong, he's a good man and a good father," said Draco. "But as an inventor, he's only had limited success. So I want to help him, I really do. But it's not him I'm worried about. It's my mother. And my aunt Andromeda. I'm worried what this revelation will do to them."

"Oh?" said Bellatrix. "I don't bite."

"It's not that. It's going to open a lot of old wounds, seeing you being who you are," said Draco. "My mother and my aunts were very close. Losing my aunt Bellatrix... my aunt from this world, I mean... was a blow to the entire family, one they still haven't fully recovered from. There's still a lot of pain under the surface there. I'm afraid Dumbledore will eventually make this decision for me, but I don't relish the fallout."

"You're a good lad," said Bellatrix, and she meant it. Unlike the Draco she knew, this Draco was well-versed with carrying heavy burdens and took it in stride without complaining. It spoke of his character.

Unfortunately, his choice of companionship spoke less of him. In fact, this was a good point to breach the subject. "Those two you keep company with. The two girls..."

"Schwarzenegger and Dreamer?" Draco smiled warmly. "We've been friends ever since our first year. And we'll probably be friends for the rest of our lives. We usually get up on all sorts of adventures during the summer break when they stay at our manor. It's why we decided to help out dad with his experiment. Schwarzenegger has a bad relationship with her mum and Dreamer, well, she doesn't really have any place to go. They're both like family to me. Sisters I never had, you see?"

' _A traitor and a mudblood? Family? Disgusting!'_ Bellatrix bristled, but kept her expression neutral. "Those are interesting names."

"Oh, Luna and Hermione. Sorry. Got a tendency to give people nicknames," Draco shrugged. "Bit of a hobby of mine. Luna is smart as a whip. So smart that she's actually skipped a year. Real talent, but doesn't really have an open mind for possibilities that aren't provable or testable. And quite vocal about her skepticism. That's why I call her Schwarzenegger, after an action movie star Hermione introduced us to."

Draco half-grinned. "Now, Hermione is a completely different sort. Loves stories, open to all sorts of possibilities, always with her head in the clouds. A hopeless romantic who loves to dream big. Truth be told, Luna and Hermione couldn't be more opposite and they always bicker. But never doubt that we're all the best of friends."

"But why?" Bellatrix pressed. "I understand that you made friends with the Lovegood-girl, but why do you associate with a mudblood?"

"Excuse me? A what-blood?" Draco asked.

Bellatrix felt her pure-blood run cold. At first she considered that Draco might be pulling his leg, but judging from his expression he was genuinely confused by the term 'mudblood'.

"What I mean to say is that I understand why you make friends with a fellow-pureblood like Luna Lovegood. But that Granger-mudblood… Where is your sense of pure-blood pride?" Bellatrix almost hissed, letting her mask fall off just a tad too much.

Draco was momentarily confused, but then apparently intrigued. "That's still a thing in your world?" he responded.

Bellatrix was not sure what to say, but she was certain her horrified expression told everything.

"No, seriously. We need the muggle-borns. We need them or we'll all die out!" Draco said with a smile as if this was the most obvious thing in the world. "Previous Ministries were smart enough to realize this. Inbreeding was a real concern and it still is. These days, the Ministry incentivizes muggle and muggle-born relations to make sure our population remains stable and healthy. Not by Marriage Laws or anything like that: those are horrible. But there's all kinds of programs and tax breaks for young mixed couples if they decide to marry. And it's been working. Inbreeding is dangerous and I like my chin, thank you very much. Surely you see the wisdom in that."

Bellatrix's felt anger soar through her veins and had to fight the urge to grab the boy and shake him about violently. It took more willpower than she would have liked to keep calm and collected. ' _Be Slytherin... Be Slytherin... Be Slytherin'_ she repeated over and over in her mind until she was again as calm as a still pond. A still pond located in the caldera of an active volcano, mind you, but for the moment the eruption hadn't yet occurred.

Draco suddenly got up. "Oh, sorry, I have to go. I lost track of time," he said while packing his books. "I have advanced flying lessons and still have to fetch my carpet from the dorm. If I'm late, professor Dolohov will have my hide... again! Nice talking to you. Hope to see you around."

Bellatrix watched him go and was flabbergasted, confused, leaning on the railing of the parapet to steady herself, her mind reeling from what she had just learned. In all honestly, she was trying not to vomit. This world… this world was a nightmare!

She ran a hand through her long black locks and decided she needed more of a walk. The fresh air would help screw her head on straight after this heinous revelation and walking along the parapet would allow her to take in the calming view. It did help a little, at least, but part of her wanted to run back to her room and stuff her head under the pillow until Dumbledore would find a way to send her back where she belonged.

She was approaching a tower and the pathway led around it. When she rounded the corner, she almost ran straight into the brown-haired mudblood. And when she did, her jaw almost dropped the floor. Instantly, she was hit with almost innate sense to be keep her eyes downcast in respect and subservience. Naturally, it wasn't so much the mudblood that caused this distress in her, rather it was the person standing next to her. Oh, he looked different, but it was still him. Expect he had a nose. And hair.

The Dark Lord.

The Dark Lord was here. He had come for her!

"Oh, professor," spoke mudblood-Hermione. Instantly, Bellatrix glared at her. She dared... she had _dared_ do address the Dark Lord directly! The gall of this filthy creature! Hermione herself was blissfully unaware of the intense fury radiating from the dark witch and continued pointing her out to the Dark Lord. "This is who I told you about! See how much she looks like our Bellatrix Black?"

"Ah! I see. And you've hardly talked about anything else for days, miss Granger," spoke the Dark Lord.

The Dark Lord. He was... so... different. So... light-hearted. Was that... humor on his voice?

"Oh, where are my manners," spoke the Dark Lord as he extended his hand. "Thomas Riddle. Muggle-studies."

Bellatrix blinked as she lamely extended her hand in response. "M-muggle... s-studies?" she stammered. Then realization hit her. This was not the Dark Lord at all. This was another denizen of this weird and awful world. One look at this man's kindly eyes said it all. Lines in his face betrayed that this man was quick to smile and laugh. A far, far cry from her precious Dark Lord.

"Yes. And I already know who _you_ are," said Thomas Riddle. "That's going to create a bit of a stir around here, I can tell you."

By now, Bellatrix could see that the mudblood was carrying some sort of contraption she didn't recognize. Apparently following her gaze, Thomas Riddle nodded. "Muggle-born students are exempt from Muggle-studies, so actually getting one in my class is rare."

"I've decided to help out professor Riddle by improving the curriculum," said the mudblood Hermione.

Thomas laughed briefly. "She also doesn't laugh when I get something completely wrong. Well, not to often anyway and not too loudly."

"Sorry," the mudblood Hermione bit her lip for a moment. "Sometimes I just can't help myself."

"Oh, miss Granger?" asked Riddle. "Would you be a dear and reset the projector for next class? I'd do it myself, but I'm already late for lunch at the teacher's lounge."

"Of course," said the mudblood. "I'll go take care of it right now."

The mudblood shot both herself and her teacher a disgustingly sweet smile before running off into the tower she had come from, leaving Bellatrix to stand in stunned silence as she regarded the man who was, in another world, her Dark Lord. Though older, he still had the stunning and self-confident countenance he had had during the first meetings she had visited when the Death Eaters were still named the Knights of Walpurgis. How she'd breathlessly hung from his lips with every word. How she could drown in his voice.

But this was not him. Yet her heart melted when he turned to her with a smile. "Our miss Granger is completely in love with you, you know?"

She needed a few moments to process that. "What?!" was her startled response.

"Oh, not literally," said Riddle. "She's in love with the concept of you. A traveler between worlds. A stranger in a strange land. An explorer of realities. It's a common concept in those stories miss Granger loves more than anything."

Bellatrix mulled that over. "I... see..."

"Expect to see her around quite a lot," smiled Riddle. "She has thousands of questions and can't wait to ask them."

"Oh," Bellatrix muttered. " _Wonderful_..."

"Well, I should be going," Riddle said. "If I wait any longer, all the sandwiches will be gone once Rubeus gets his hands on them. Honestly, it's amazing just how much that man can eat. Again, pleased to meet you and I'll be sure to see you around."

Bellatrix worded a brief, stunned and demure answer as Thomas Riddle passed her by. This was the second blow which had been landed on her today and it was even worse than the first. By now, Bellatrix was almost hyperventilating. She needed a moment to calm herself. Calm. Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out.

It wasn't working. At all.

Her mind was racing, her body reeling as she felt herself go weak in the knees. What kind of crapsack world was this?!

Pure-blood pride didn't exist.

The man who would be her Dark Lord was a muggle-lover.

And she had already caught a glimpse of her own personal mudblood stalker sneaking a peek at her from a distance.

Just then, a group of students whizzed by on their flying carpets, one of them being Draco. Bellatrix watched them go with a bank expression on her face. Then, she grabbed the railing and sighed heavily, whispering wryly to herself. "I am in Hell…"


	3. The Cage

After the revelations earlier that day, Bellatrix wanted nothing more than to run back to the guest-quarters, lock the door behind her and hide under pillow for at least month.

But that would be cowardice and while Bellatrix Black had been many things in her life, she had never been a coward.

That said, she once again found herself in the goat-filled office of Aberforth Dumbledore. The old man was watching her patiently as she sat awkwardly in the chair on the other side of his desk. In truth, she was bracing herself for the next horror which this world would undoubtedly throw at her feet.

"Ah, thank you for coming, miss... Black?" said Dumbledore. "I hear on the grapevine that you prefer to adopt your maiden name?"

"That is correct," said Bellatrix. "My husband... isn't here. And there was never much of a marriage to speak of anyway."

"I'm afraid we haven't made much progress, so perhaps that is for the best," said Dumbledore. "We, of course, contacted the Lestrange estate and he denies ever having had contact with you. He was quite rude about it, I might add."

Bellatrix snorted. "Sounds like him, alright."

"That said, we've had one of your hairs tested and you are a perfect match for Bellatrix Black, someone we know certain has been dead for decades," Aberforth stroked his beard thoughtfully. "Which complicates things considerably."

"You took my hair without my permission?" she narrowed her eyes, then sighed heavily. "The goblin hairdresser..."

"We have our ways, yes," Aberforth chuckled. "No malice was intended. We needed to confirm your story and for all intents and purposes, you are who you say you are. I am now forced to give more credence to miss Granger's seemingly outlandish theory. Like she said, theory of magic supports her claim, no matter how far-fetched it might sound."

"Believe me," Bellatrix replied. "I was skeptical myself. But this world... this place. It's so different. Your Lily Snape has confirmed my memories have not been altered. It would almost be a blessing if they were."

"That's another possibility I considered, but the why of it would bother me. What would you achieve, even, by going through all that trouble to have your memories altered?" Aberforth wondered.

"Certainly not for my pleasure or joy," Bellatrix said wryly.

Aberforth shook his head. "The point is moot. If Lily says your memories are yours, I am not one to doubt her considerable skills. However, the sad truth remains that if you are truly from another universe, I'm not certain how we can send you back."

That was absolutely not what Bellatrix wanted to hear. "But I must go back! I do not belong here!" she hissed, a touch of desperation creeping in her voice.

"I understand this might be upsetting for you," said Aberforth. "But understand our position as well. What happened a few days ago was a freak accident. Nobody really knows what and how it happened. As for replicating the experiment..."

"I can't stay here. I am needed in my own world!" Bellatrix rose from her seat.

"Please, calm down. I'm thinking we can help each other," said Aberforth. Bellatrix reluctantly took her seat again. "With mister Filch recent retirement, the position of Hogwarts caretaker has yet to be filled. I'd like to offer the job to you."

Bellatrix blinked and let the words sink in a little. "Me? Caretaker?" she said, cocking her head sideways before hissing out her next words. "Are you serious?"

"Precisely. That way you may remain here at Hogwarts while we continue to sort this matter out and you can keep yourself busy while we do. Keep your mind off things. We'll offer you room-and-board, of course, and move you to the caretakers quarters. We'll, of course, give you good hours and a decent salary for your time," said Aberforth. "What say you?"

To say that Bellatrix was angered and insulted by this farce of an offer was the understatement of the century. The first thought which crossed Bellatrix's mind was to grab the largest and heaviest goat-statue she could find, beat him over the head with it and then shove it up his arse sideways.

Realization hit her. Dumbledore had absolutely _no idea_ how to send her back. In fact, it was likely that he thought they'd never find any way to send her home.

And he has no idea what to do with her.

This was his way to placate her.

Oh, this Dumbledore was much like his brother. Devious and manipulative, even though he might even think he's doing the right thing. First by sparing her feelings by not outright stating that she was likely stuck here forever, and secondly also feeling responsible for her well-being while trapped in this hellhole of a world!

Yet, at the same time, he was not above exploiting the situation by trying to get some cheap labor out of the deal. Not to mention attempt to keep her placated and deflect from any potential scandals which would no doubt start when it was revealed that Hogwarts had allowed dangerous magical experiments to take place on school grounds. It also explained the new set of clothes and why it looked so much like the staff uniform. Dumbledore had been playing her for a fool.

She almost admired him for it.

Almost.

Bellatrix was ready to throw it back in his face, tell him what he could do with his offer. _And_ all his goat-statues. But then she repeated her mantra and forced herself to calm down. ' _Be Slytherin. Be Slytherin. Be Slytherin.'_

Oh, she had been played, alright, but that didn't mean she couldn't turn the tables on him and outplay the manipulator. Nothing was over: she wouldn't rely on others to solve this problem for her. She would find a way to get home still, but she'd have to do it on her own.

The key was to get closer to those whom had been running the experiment. And to do that, the job of caretaker would be the perfect opportunity. She'd blend in, perhaps learn more about this horrible world and even find her way back to her own world by herself if she was crafty enough. It'd be a good cover, a source of income and, best of all, if the position was anything like it was in her world, she would be given the Master Key… which could open every single door at Hogwarts. A mighty prize.

By now Bellatrix had been silent for a while and Aberforth had started to grow a bit uneasy.

"You are, of course, welcome to think it over if..."

"I accept," Bellatrix said, resolutely, and forced a smile. "Thank you for the offer. I am flattered," she lied through her teeth. "Keeping busy might be exactly what I need right now."

Though he tried to keep it hidden, relief washed over Dumbledore's face. "I'm glad to hear it. Offering you this position is the least we could do considering your dire predicament."

' _He actually thinks he's doing me a favor! How precious,'_ Bellatrix thought. Well, she supposed technically he was.

"I have one condition. I'd like an advance on my salary," said Bellatrix. "I came to this world with nothing, after all."

"Understandable. We'll work out the details. There is one more matter to discuss, though. Contacting your family. Or rather, the family of _our_ Bellatrix Black. No doubt they'll be in for quite a shock. Losing you… our Bellatrix, was quite a blow to them," said Dumbledore.

Bellatrix rubbed her chin. The old goat raised a very good point. Still, Cissy... this world's Cissy, was married to Lucius who was the most likely person to be able to bring her back to her own world. Contacting them was part of her plan, but she should be careful about it. Lucius was almost unrecognizable, after all, and she had no idea what her sister was like in this world.

"I spoke to Draco earlier. He will no doubt tell his father so Cissy will find out soon enough," said Bellatrix, narrowing her eyes. "I would rather this happens in some sort of official capacity. To minimize the shock."

After suffering the indignity of being used by Dumbledore, it seemed only fitting to have him do all the dirty work for her.

"Perhaps you're right. I'll have to think on how to approach this best. I don't envy the poor woman. Bellatrix... _our_ Bellatrix was much loved," said Aberforth. "I knew her when she was alive. She was so full of life and joy."

Bellatrix nodded. "The mu… miss Granger told me the story. The fire at the astronomy tower."

Aberforth sat back. "Indeed. Such a brave girl she was."

Bellatrix was, however, not prepared for Aberforth's next question.

"Would you like to meet her?"

* * *

When Aberforth Dumbledore and Bellatrix arrived at the Great Hall, the goblin staff was already hard at work setting the tables for the evening meal. The hall was well lit by magic candles, and a few hungry students had already arrived and were impatiently waiting for evening meal to start. So far, Bellatrix had yet to see the outcome of the enigmatic question Dumbledore had set forth, but a rather creeping suspicion had come over her.

"Ah, here we are," said Dumbledore. "Before mealtime, I will introduce you as the latest addition to our staff. As for _our_ Bellatrix..." he said, fishing a pocket watch out of his front pocket and smiling when a sudden cold draft permeated the entire hall. Moments later, a translucent girl came speeding into the Great Hall, floating, dancing and flying circles around the ceiling. Dumbledore smiled and waved the ghostly figure over. At first, the ghostly girl did a few more barrel-rolls in the air before gently floating down.

Bellatrix's suspicions were confirmed, but she had to admit to still be somewhat startled. In front of her was a spitting image of herself, age seventeen. The uniform the ghostly girl wore looked to be of an older design than the current ones being used by the students of Hogwarts. Her features, her face, her hair, though. It was unmistakably her. Or, more precisely, _had_ been her.

"Bellatrix? Meet Bellatrix."

It was unsure whom was meant to be whom in that statement, but Bellatrix didn't think it mattered much. The ghostly girl moved close to her and she could feel the intense cold radiating from her. Ghost-Bellatrix scrutinized her carefully, before breaking into a fit of laughter. "Wow, you look so _old."_

' _Old?!'_ , Bellatrix bristled. The dark witch narrowed her eyes. "And you look so _dead!_ " she spat back.

The ghost-girl mulled that over for a moment. "Touche," she smiled. "I was wondering when I'd get to meet you. Hermione told me so much about you already."

"Did she now?" Bellatrix growled inwardly. If only that mudblood blabbermouth could keep her mouth shut for even a second.

"Weird experiments, other worlds, horrific accidents," said Ghost-Bellatrix, a finger to her translucent lips. "Not so different from the stories she usually tells, but without the aliens, space-ships or space-elves this time."

"Yes, we have to be thankful for small mercies," Bellatrix muttered.

"By now, I think everybody knows about you except for the spider-voles. Anyway, pleased to meet you," Ghost-Bellatrix held out her hand in a friendly gesture. Deciding to keep up her facade of politeness, Bellatrix did the same.

"Miss Black, I wouldn't..." Dumbledore moved to stop her, but it was already too late.

Ghosts were cold. That much Bellatrix knew and the ghost girl in front of her wasn't the first ghost she'd interacted with, of course. But this girl? She was positively _freezing._ As soon as the ghost-girl's hand grabbed hers, it felt as if her hand was encased in a block of polar ice. Pain shot up her arm as Bellatrix let out a startled cry and immediately pulled her arm back before her hand could snap-freeze and shatter.

Bellatrix hissed as she cradled her aching appendage, attempting to warm her hand by rubbing it against the fabric of her clothes.

"Oh, shit! I'm so sorry!" Ghost-Bellatrix was absolutely mortified. "Professor Dumbledore, I forgot again! Are you okay?"

"No, I'm definitely _not_ okay!" Bellatrix hissed through the pain.

"Miss Black, our Bella is a Frost Wraith and thus a lot colder than the usual ghost," said Dumbledore. "But you seem no worse for wear. I'll ask Lily to take a look at your arm when she arrives."

"I asked professor Snape why I am colder than all the other ghosts," Ghost-Bellatrix stated. "He said it was likely due to the fact that I died in a fire and that it's a mental thing I have no control over. But, on the brighter side, it does make me very popular during hot summers."

"Oh, good for you!" Bellatrix rolled her eyes, still cradling her arm. But at least now the feeling was starting come back to her fingers.

"Sorry," Ghost-Bellatrix seemed somewhat crestfallen, but cheered up somewhat. "But it was great to meet you. I'm sure we'll see each other again."

Bellatrix watched her fly off to once again be playful in the air. "Charming girl," she grimaced, opening and closing her still smarting hand.

"She's a bit of a patron saint for the first years," said Dumbledore. "Helps them find their way when they're lost, sits with them when they're homesick, helps them with their homework, gives them advice. Our Bella is a big sister to everyone and enjoys that role greatly. Also, she's a lot cheaper than hiring a school councilor."

"Of course," Bellatrix rolled her eyes. Aberforth Dumbledore was nothing if budget-oriented.

Dumbledore didn't take the hint. "We always set a place at the table for her," he said, pointing out a plate of rotting food being set at... the Ravenclaw table. The seating location greatly dismayed her.

"Why the statue if you have the ghost flying around?" Bellatrix asked.

Dumbledore shrugged. "It was already made and placed before her ghostly form turned up. Besides, her courage should be remembered."

By now, more students were pouring in for dinner and service was about to start. A few moments later, the professors arrived as well. Lily Snape took a quick look at her arm and thankfully found nothing wrong with it, though Bellatrix was grateful for the soothing charm. A few moments later, Bellatrix took her seat at the end of the long table at the far side of the Great Hall. Soon Aberforth would introduce her as their new caretaker.

Looking over the faces, she didn't recognize most of them. Minerva McGonagall wasn't there either, thank Merlin. Snape was there, both them in fact, seated together... and for the life of her, she could not remember ever seeing Snape smile ever. Granted, it wasn't a broad smile, more of a slight curve of the lips. But it was there. And it was aimed at his mudblood wife. Near them sat Antonin Dolohov, looking much like she had known him in her world: stern and unforgiving. As professor of Flight Studies, he was apparently much feared.

Now another person she recognized was Rubeus Hagrid, groundskeeper and Care of Magical Creatures professor. So Hagrid was a pathetic loser in both worlds, so at least that was a constant. Thomas Riddle she had already met and he was seated next to Hagrid, cheerfully chatting with him. It seemed that they were good friends.

"Children," said Dumbledore as he stood at the lecture. Immediately, the students... and one translucent ghost-girl... hushed as he started his announcement. "Today I have the pleasure of introducing you to miss Black. As you all know, we've haven't been able to attract a new caretaker since mister Filch's retirement. The results are abundantly clear, as even after a few weeks, there are parts of the school which are literally falling to pieces. Miss Black, a recent arrival, has agreed to fulfill the role of caretaker for the time being. Please welcome her and try not to inundate her with requests on her first day. I realize there is a lot to do, but she is only one woman."

As Dumbledore left the lectern, Snape got up from the table and strode over to take the stage. Seeing how the students didn't show a hint of surprise, Bellatrix concluded this had to be a regular occurrence.

Snape grabbed the lectern with both hands and took some time to glower at the students. "By now, rumors have been spreading around about miss Black's identity. And thanks to a certain blabbermouth, there are now outlandish stories flying around this school."

Bellatrix looked over at the Ravenclaw table to see a certain brown-haired mudblood shrink a little in her chair.

"I will confirm that, yes, there was an experiment and yes, there was an unexpected result. The details do not matter. Miss Black is here now and she will be our caretaker for the time being. You will treat her with the same respect you will treat any of our staff. Anyone, and I do mean anyone..." he said, taking a moment to glare daggers at a certain brown-haired mudblood. "...caught spreading further rumors will be subject to immediate and lengthy detention. I hope I have made myself clear. Miss Black?"

Seeing it was her turn to speak, Bellatrix got up and moved to the lectern. Like Dumbledore and Snape before her, she grabbed both sides of the lectern and cleared her throat. "Right," she spoke. "I won't keep you from your dinner any longer than necessary. Professor Snape as the right of it: I came to Hogwarts under unusual circumstances to say the least, but I am here now and will stay here for the time being. It will be an honor and a privilege to give all you fine young people some measure of support during your education. You are the future of this world. Remember that."

In truth, she had been thinking of what she was going to say for some time and had carefully crafted a speech with would make her seem somewhat friendly and approachable, especially to a certain three young people in the crowd. An applause from the students followed, and after stealing a look at the professors, she could see Dumbledore and Snape approved as well.

So far, she had set up her plan quite well.

It was during a rather delicious dinner that Lily Snape scooted over towards her for a bit of a chat. For now, Bellatrix would allow it. "So," started Lily. "Congratulations. Either to you or Dumbledore."

After she gave Lily a questioning look, red-haired woman gave her a wink. "Dumbledore finally roped himself a caretaker."

Bellatrix shrugged. "I need something to do anyways."

"Hm," said Lily. "Just don't let him short-change you. Anyway, could I be the first one to make use of your talents on your first day tomorrow? I will need some help setting up the field-post at the game pitch. Griselda called in sick today and it's a bit much to handle on my own."

Bellatrix gave her a wary look. "I do not have a medical license. And healing magic was never my strong suit."

"Don't worry. I mostly need help setting things up and getting the field-post ready for the last big game of the year," said Lily. "Other than that it's just minor triage and keeping crowds under control if it comes to it."

"Hm, right, it's May. Last Quidditch game of the year," Bellatrix pursed her lips. Truth be told, she could do with watching a nice relaxing game of Quidditch after today's revelations. Of course, she should have known it wouldn't be that easy.

"Quidditch?" Lily asked, giving her an odd sideways glance.

A horrible feeling came over her. "What game are you talking about then?" Bellatrix was almost afraid to ask.

"Rugnarok, of course!"

* * *

Rugnarok, or carpet-bagging as it was known as in the United States, was the biggest game in this world, as Bellatrix found out quickly enough.

For the larger part of the morning, Bellatrix had helped Lily set up the medical field-post by moving supplies from the infirmary to the pitch near the school. The pitch itself was smaller than a Quidditch pitch and bowl shaped, much like an old style Roman arena with a safety net strapped over the bottom of the pitch. On the level just above the safety net was the dug-out for the teams of all four houses and the field-post right next to it. According to Lily they had the best seats in the house, but that was yet to be seen.

The stands were filled with students as well as some visitors from Hogsmeade and the surrounding areas. In fact, the monthly games served as a rather nice source of extra income for the school, a fact no doubt Dumbledore would be pissing himself over. Flags of all the House teams were adorning the sides of the pitch as well as advertisements for wizarding businesses: the Slytherin Rattlers, the Ravenclaw Jackdaws, the Hufflepuff Wolverines and the Gryffindor Wildcats.

Bellatrix listened while Lily explained the game to her. Every team apparently had two types of players. Interceptors, who wore thinc leather padding, were mostly male and were armed with what looked to be big two-handed rubber croquet mallets. Then there were dodgers: lightly armored, mostly female, no weapons. All houses would play matches against each other today and the first match would be between Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff. Both teams stepped on their carpets and flew up into the pitch. Rather that sitting, they were all stood on the carpets.

"Two teams enter the arena and try to knock each other off their rugs," said Lily.

"That's it?" Bellatrix asked.

"It's the basics, but there's more to it than that," replied Lily while she stepped back to unpack a bag with some first-aid potions to ready them for use. "Interceptors, those are the ones with the hammers, have the job of hunting down dodgers of the opposite team and knock them off their carpet, while defending their own. Dodgers only have one job: stay on their carpets at all costs. Interceptors knocked off their carpet are worth one point while dodgers are worth three points. Teams have eight players, five interceptors and three dodgers. Players flying out of the upper boundaries of the arena will foul which will lead to subtraction of points. The match lasts until the time runs out or until one of the teams has no more riders on their carpets. It's really quite rousing. Look, the match is about to start."

"I see," Bellatrix muttered warily.

By now, both teams had made their way to opposite ends of the pitch with Dolohov, clad in a black referee outfit, floating in the middle on his own carpet. He started the match with a whistle and floated his carpet up to what appeared to be the maximum allowed altitude of the arena.

Instantly, all sixteen carpets shot off in different directions. From her position, she could see carpets were zipping around above the dug-out and the field-post and, despite the fact the announcer was doing her best, she had trouble telling which player belonged to which team. They looked much like ants at a picnic swarming a fallen piece of cheese.

It was when she looked down to ask Lily what was so exciting about this game that she suddenly gasped.

"CIRCE'S TITS!" Bellatrix shouted and held up her arms when four carpets came barreling directly towards them just above the safety nets, wailing on each other with mallets while a dodger zig-zagged away from them… only to pull up at the last second before they could ram themselves right through the rather flimsy wooden frame of the field-post.

Bellatrix blinked and it look her a moment before she dared to look.

This game seemed to be utter chaos with carpets bumping into each other, players beating and wailing on each other with mallets and buzzing around with no rhyme or reason.

Quidditch was an elegant game. One of skill, tradition and strategy. But this? This was pure barbarism.

"I… I take it you have plenty of work during these games?" Bellatrix asked Lily.

"Not from the players, aside from the occasional broken bone," Lily shrugged. "Most of my customers during these games are from the audience due to under-cooked treats. Food poisoning is harder to treat than broken bones anyway."

By now, the first players were being thrown off their carpets. One female dodger caught a mallet straight to the chest in a way which made the dark witch cringe and fell down into the net to be quickly collected by the goblins. She was moaning when being wheeled inside the field-post where Lily did a quick check-up, applied a potion and cleared her for play in a later match.

More and more players were knocked off their carpets, which had the added bonus of Bellatrix now being able to follow the game a bit better. Apparently, Ravenclaw wasn't doing very well. There were still three minutes on the clock and the only players of the Ravenclaw team still up were a single dodger and two interceptors against four Hufflepuff interceptors. Though the Hufflepuffs had lost all their dodgers, Ravenclaw could still only win the game if the last girl up would survive through those three minutes.

"Things are looking bad for Ravenclaw," said Bellatrix. "Four of those interceptors to chase down one girl."

"They took some unnecessary risks and paid a heavy price for them," said Lily. "Still, I wouldn't worry about it just yet. It's the Jackdaws' star dodger who's still up. I think you've already met."

And then Bellatrix saw it, as the last Ravenclaw dodger still up shot by near the field-post. Brown-hair was whipping through the air, brown eyes covered with goggles and a slender frame which was in complete control of her carpet.

It was the mudblood of all people.

Hermione Granger raced through the arena with four Interceptors hot on her tail. Feigning a dodge to the right, Hermione suddenly shot straight up at an almost ninety degree angle to the roaring approval of the crowd. All four interceptors overshot her, one even trying to over correct his carpet so much that he lost his balance and tumbled into the safety net. More laps around the arena, Hermione being the last dodger in the game standing on both sides, constantly chased by interceptors of the Hufflepuff team, whom in turn were being wailed upon by the two remaining Ravenclaw Interceptors as she led them all on a merry chase through the arena.

"Hermione hasn't been knocked off her carpet this entire season," Lily chuckled. "Look at them. She's driving those poor Hufflepuff boys completely mad!"

As Hermione motioned her carpet to take a dive, she was headed straight towards an interceptors. The boy, of course, took a swing at her with his mallet, only for Hermione to do a hard bank to the right. In the stands, on the front row, Bellatrix spotted Draco with a girl next to him wearing a large black Raven-shaped hat... the fact that she stood next to Draco indicated that this was likely the Lovegood girl. The two of them cheered as Hermione rather deftly dodged another couple of interceptors by both zig-zagging and swiftly changing her altitude, bending her body along with the movements of her carpet. It seemed like a small miracle that she actually managed to keep standing.

"She's good, isn't she?"

"She's certainly… flexible," Bellatrix muttered.

"Rugnarok is really fun because it's so unpredictable," said Lily. "Everything is exciting to the last minute because a team's fortune can change at every second."

"I'll take your word for it," Bellatrix muttered.

A sharp ting sounded. Time for round one was up and Ravenclaw was the clear and undisputed victor, earning themselves their first match-point. And there were eight more to come. Seven rounds where the teams of all houses would play against each other and a final round where the teams with the point-game points would compete for the Monthly cup. The Slytherin and Gryffindor teams were up next and, judging from the state both Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw teams, they could use a bit of a break.

The mudblood came flying into the dug-out and stepped off her carpet to a barrage of cheers, fist-pumps, hugs and shouts of 'Jackdaws forever!'. The mudblood yanked her helmet and goggles off, revealing a sweaty and red-faced Hermione, her chest heaving as she panted from the exertion. The young mudblood fetched a bottle of water and gulped down half of it before pouring the rest over her face.

It was then that the mudblood caught Bellatrix staring at her. They locked eyes and the corners of the mudblood's mouth curled up to give her a friendly smile.

The mudblood, being her usual annoying self, was quick to approach her after rolling up her rug and put it on the sling on her back. Part of her wanted to rush back into the field-post with the excuse of being rather busy, but instead Bellatrix forced a smile and looked on as the nasty, sweaty mudblood was still panting while she used a towel to dry her face. "Did you enjoy the match?" asked the mudblood.

Bellatrix thought for a moment. "I can honestly say I've never seen anything like that ever before," she replied, keeping her expression as neutral as possible and keeping her disdain to minimal levels. Thankfully, the mudblood didn't catch it.

"Believe me," said the mudblood. "It's even more fun than it looks. Do you fly much?"

"I'm used to brooms," Bellatrix replied, trying her best to not show her discomfort she suffered from the mudblood's proximity. "I've never flown a carpet before. They're illegal in my world. Enchanted muggle artifacts."

The Mudblood blinked. "Seriously? I can't imagine that. Carpets aside, there's loads of enchanted muggle artifacts. But wait, brooms themselves are enchanted muggle artifacts, so why aren't those illegal in your world?"

Bellatrix shrugged. "They just aren't."

"Pfft," the mudblood chuckled. "Arbitrary Ministry rules. So that's the same in both our worlds, at least."

A loud bell sounded from the arena, to a roaring cheer of the crowd. Apparently, the next match would start in a few minutes. The mudblood followed her into the field-post where Lily was already waiting and looking from the open windows into the arena.

"Oh, Hermione!" said Lily after clearing another player for a later match and working him out the door. "Well done out there, it was so exciting! Some ace feints too! I can't believe you were still standing after a bank that sharp."

Hermione blushed a little from the praise. "It's not that hard, really," Hermione smiled with a shrug. "It's all about bending your legs at the right moment and have a good set of abs, I suppose. Most important part is enjoying yourself, though."

Bellatrix mulled that over for a moment. Of course she had known about Potter's friend: knowing about your enemy gave an advantage, after all. The Hermione-mudblood of this world seemed to be a bit more sporty than the academically focused variant from own world: more of a doer than a thinker. Perhaps that could be useful information to remember for later.

"I have some time to kill before my next match," said Hermione. "Mind if I stay and chat for a bit?"

"Of course not," replied Lily, causing Bellatrix to roll her eyes when neither woman was looking. "Just as long as you remember to step out of the way in case of an emergency."

Hermione nodded in understanding and was stood next to Bellatrix when the next match started. Gryffindor and Slytherin players on their carpets started bumping into each other above their heads, causing Bellatrix to let out a heavy sigh of exasperation when it started to rain players.

"Oh god, that's already one dodger and two interceptors down barely into the first minute," Hermione bit her lip. "The Wildcats are getting completely massacred!"

Gryffindors getting pounded? That, at least, made Bellatrix feel a little better.

"The Rattlers are really good this year," said Hermione. "I don't look forward to our match with them later. The Slytherins are nasty. They play to win and are utterly ruthless. Their team causes the most broken bones and their interceptors aim for the head more often than not. During a match a few months back, I had all their five interceptors constantly on my tail. I guess they thought I was the biggest threat so they wanted to take me out first. They bumped into me, clipped my carpet, tried to push me into the stands, that sort of thing. Then Goyle managed to slam his mallet against the back of my head. It's a good thing I was still wearing my helmet, but I'm not ashamed to admit I was so dazed for a moment I almost flew right into the audience at full speed."

"If any rider loses their helmet, the match is instantly paused," Lily interjected.

"But I didn't, and I kept standing and outran them all!" Hermione smile, pride evident on her voice. "Ooooh, there goes the second Wildcat dodger."

Indeed, one Slytherin interceptor had approached the Gryffindor girl from the side while a second one swooped in and rammed her straight off her carpet with a shoulder punch.

Brutal.

The girl had been swiftly recovered from the safety net and wheeled into the field-post on a stretch, suffering from a broken jaw.

"This is what's considered entertainment in your world?" Bellatrix muttered. "Quidditch is far superior than this... this... I don't even know how to describe it!" the dark witch threw her arms up just as the Gryffindors lost their third dodger.

"You don't have Rugnarok in your world?" Hermione asked, her interest clearly piqued. The brown-eyed mudblood turned to her with a ready smile. "You'll have to tell me what this 'Quidditch' is like. Do you use mallets too?"

"Certainly not!" Bellatrix shot back. The match between the Slytherin Rattlers and the Gryffindor Wildcats ended with a devastating defeat for the Wildcats. All Gryffindors had been knocked from their carpets long before the match timer had run out. The mudblood excused herself to get ready for her next match, but for Bellatrix the day was far from over. She'd be assisting Lily for the rest of the day and sighed when three more Gryffindor kids who looked as if they'd been run over by a herd of centaurs were being wheeled into the field-post.

Rugnarok. While Quidditch was the game of kings, this was a game for tossers. Another point against this horrible, horrible world.

"I need to find a way home," Bellatrix whispered to herself. "And quickly!"

* * *

After spending a full day at that horrible, horrible Rugnarok game, it had finally come to a brutal final round. A game between the two finalists: Slytherin and Ravenclaw. Like the mudblood had told her, Slytherin were very underhanded players which had led to Lily having to treat a lot of broken Ravenclaw bones. However, in the end Ravenclaw prevailed and the Hermione-mudblood had kept her record of not being knocked off her carpet for the entire season, for whatever that was worth.

Bellatrix wasn't squeamish by any means. In her life she had seen and caused plenty of death. She'd killed without mercy, she was used to the smell of charred skin and flesh after a magical impact and had used the vilest of magics on her opponents. But seeing a wailing sixteen year old being rolled in on a stretcher with multiple shards of bone sticking out of his leg and his foot twisted the wrong way round had given even her pause.

Lily had been diligent in treating him, however, and after helping her break down the field-post and return all the supplies to the infirmary, it was time to inspect her new dwelling.

Bellatrix stepped through the door of the caretaker's shack, built with one side against the castle wall, near the east gate. It was a lovely little shack with a charming thatched roof and nice lean-lined windows with shutters on the outside. The ceiling was a little low, but it had a very cozy cottage-like atmosphere, with big wooden ceiling beams to support the structure.

After enduring the roaring crowds, it was quite cathartic to enjoy the quiet of what was now her own home.

All areas of the cottage were confined to a single space, with the exception of a small bathroom and shower. The centerpiece of the room was large fireplace where a cozy fire was roaring with a large three-seater sofa nestled in front of it. Near it stood a table and some dining chairs, opposite to a kitchen which was surprisingly large for a cottage this size. In the back of the shack underneath another lead-lined window was a large and inviting bed next to a wardrobe and a nightstand. Some painting of the Scottish highlands adorned the walls and it looked like the cottage had also been outfitted with a potioneering station and a cauldron.

She nodded in approval: everything a witch on her own would need.

Near the door was her workstation: a large desk and several filing cabinets, above which hung a large pinboard containing all manner of protocols, her patrol routes, the lock-up schedules and her 'to do'-list. A cursory glance revealed that one of her tasks would be setting traps for Scottish spider-voles. She rolled her eyes when she saw that the traps for the job would purely be 'catch-and-release'. What good were those? The released spider-voles would simply run right back right into the castle! Still, she supposed that was better than handling dead and rotting pests.

Another thing she saw was quite an impressive backlog of service-requests from students and staff pinned on the board. Apparently, it's been some time since there had been a caretaker on duty. She'd have to put some effort in tomorrow.

And she would. She was determined to be the best caretaker Hogwarts had ever had. To perfectly play the role which had been handed to her, while secretly doing her utmost to find a way home. Certainly, the work itself was far beneath a witch of her talents, but the pay was reasonable and the shack was quite nice. Considering she had nothing when she arrived, the fact that she had ended up with a job, a home, new clothes and cash in hand in the span of less than a week pleased her to no end.

First order of business was to toss her boots off and drape herself over the sofa. And she did just that, sighing in complete bliss after finally getting her feet up after a long day.

From the sofa, she glanced at the Master Key, hanging above her desk. Oh, that would be good to put use indeed. This shack would be a perfect base of operations for her to scheme from.

But for now, that shower was starting to look really inviting. And the bed did too.


	4. By Any Other Name

For the better part of the last four days, Bellatrix had been fulfilling the role of caretaker of Hogwarts to her utmost and in this time, she had actually managed to reduce the number of open service-requests on the backlog to almost nothing. For days she'd been repairing plumbing, mending holes in the floor, securing flying carpets from floating off, making preparations for the students of the first three years to make their weekend-trip into Hogsmeade, straightening the paintings and cleaning up after a rather explosive accident in Theory of Magic. In fact, she had just set the last spider-vole trap and was getting ready for a nice long break back in her shack.

Oh, the work was absolutely beneath her, there was no question about that. A witch of her ability deserved far more. Doing all these menial jobs, however, did allow her to learn a lot more about this world simply by talking to students and staff while she worked. While doing her rounds the past few days, she had learned quite a lot more details. Thankfully nothing quite as earth-shattering as her Dark Lord being a muggle-lover, but more smaller details which could be useful to her. First of all, she learned London wasn't the capital of the UK in this world. Instead, that honor belonged to Edinburgh. Apparently, the Jacobite rebellion of 1745 had succeeded in this world and the Scots had managed to overthrow the ruling family after marching on England. The United Kingdom was still united... under the Scots until England was granted a form of home rule much later. The seat of power for the UK, as well as the Ministry of Magic, was located in Edinburgh, as a result.

Second, students at Hogwarts attended for eight years instead of seven. Thirdly, students living in the dorms had private rooms, unlike the communal dorms in her world: that was something she would have liked herself when she'd been a student. Fourthly, the student body was easily five times the size of the student body in her own world; the wizarding world was far more populous in general. Fifthly, and this was one of the more harder part to deal with, after the Dumbledore-Grindelwalt war ended in 1929, wizarding currency had been completely phased out in favor of local muggle currency. She'd found that out the hard way when given her advance and finding a brown envelope filled with colorful pound sterling bank notes.

By keeping her eyes and ears open, she had learned a lot about the social structure of the student body: who the popular kids were, whom was dating whom, what the juiciest gossips were, who the most respected and hated teachers were, who were the jocks and the nerds, the most prominent rivalries and, in same cases, who still wet their beds while in their sixth year. Another interesting thing she'd learned was that the three kids she should attempt to ingratiate herself with were not among the popular kids as they kept mostly to themselves. This was odd, since the mudblood was quite a bit of an athletic hero. But perhaps that was the reason the mudblood had quite a string of ex-girlfriends, judging by her reputation.

Why didn't it surprise her that a mudblood had a reputation of being the village's broom? It looked like dozens of girls had had a ride.

Another thing she had come to appreciate was just how much hard work being a caretaker entailed. Honestly, she'd hoped her work would be a little less hectic now that most service-requests had been dealt with. Bellatrix was often exhausted after a long day of work. Honesty, she wasn't made for menial tasks such as this, but for now it served a greater purpose.

She made her way through the hallways since there was one more thing she had learned by paying attention and it was a visit she would make on her way back to her new home. On the way there, she came across a group of fourth years chasing each other. "Hey!" she hissed. "No running through the hallways!"

The kids immediately slowed down and avoided her stern gaze. Oh, she was quite enjoying her authority. The kids knew she had a mandate to dole out punishments and had done so quite often already. Of course, she was careful not to abuse her authority or she wouldn't learn anything more from the students: she had to be strict, but fair.

Bellatrix arrived at her destination: a cul-de-sac near the the girls' bathroom on the third floor. There, as expected, she found a plucky raven-haired girl with a bobcut wearing Hufflepuff colors. The girl saw her and offered her the biggest, most innocent looking smile she could muster. "Good afternoon, miss Black," she greeted with a disgustingly saccharine tone.

Bellatrix was not in the mood for games and crossed her arms. "I hear you procure items. Items of a... clandestine nature."

The girl gasped in faked horror. "Miss Black, I assure you I'm a model student!" she said, her horror turning into a pout. "It's not fair to pick on me with unjust accusations," she added, turning to face the window.

"Relax, I'm not here to bust," said Bellatrix as she held out a handful of muggle banknotes and reached it over the girl's shoulders. "I'm here to buy."

The girl turned around and studied her briefly. A grin, one far more wicked than the one she had flashed her earlier, crossed her features. "Step into my office."

Said office being the girls bathroom itself, Bellatrix followed her in. The girl locked the door behind them and produced a bottomless bag. A wave of a wand later and an honest to goodness market stall appeared in front of her. On display were all manner of potions, some porn-mags, packets of condoms, cut mushrooms, baggies with 'herbs' of undetermined origin and many more illicit items which students were not supposed to have on school grounds.

"What are you looking for? Something to help you pass the time? Love-potion laced chocolates? Something to broaden your mind? Contraceptive, maybe?" the girl asked. "Trust me, you're not the first staff member to sample my wares."

Bellatrix picked her prize and handed the girl her money. The girl smiled broadly. "Parkinson Enterprises thanks you for your patronage."

Back in the privacy of her own shack, Bellatrix plopped down on her sofa and took a moment to savor her purchase. After opening up the packet, she first took in the smell. After producing a light from her wand, she took a deep drag from the mint-flavored camels she had procured from miss Parkinson.

Smoking had been her rebellion from her family in her younger years. Cigarettes, as a muggle invention, were taboo in her strict pure-blood house-hold. At first, it was all about the thrill of rebelling. Later, however, cigarettes made her feel so good and relaxed it became a habit she had never kicked. In fact, cigarettes had been a currency in Azkaban, and Bellatrix had been _quite_ wealthy in prison.

If her parents had been against her smoking cigarettes, they completely paled in comparison to to the Dark Lord's disapproval. The past two years she had had to be exceptionally careful and thus only rarely had the chance to savor a smoke. To this day, it was the only thing she actively had disobeyed her lord for.

Oh, it had been _ages_ since she'd had a cigarette and as the smoke went over her lungs, a feeling of utter, utter bliss overcame her. After the first cigarette was finished, she quickly lit another one. After that, she put the two packets she had purchased aside for later. No sense in finishing all her cigarettes so quickly, after all.

After enjoying a brief drink, she glanced at her work station she saw that three new service-requests had appeared on the board. The dark witch let out a groan and strode over to take a look what her tasks would be in the afternoon.

One was a request from Rubeus Hagrid: apparently there'd been an incident at the jetty. The rope holding half a dozen boats tied to the jetty had snapped and the boats had drifted off onto the lake. Great, she'd be chasing loose boats for hours then. The second was a request to close off the hidden tomb for the time being. This one didn't surprise her, as she had learned from doing her rounds that the students were well aware of the existence of the 'hidden' tomb and older students were using it for clandestine shagging. And the third one...

' _Hello. Sometimes opportunities come knocking,'_ Bellatrix grinned to herself.

* * *

About half an hour later, Bellatrix arrived in the girls' dorm and passed a few doors until she found the one she was looking for. "Caretaker," she announced after knocking. The door quickly opened and there stood the brown-haired mudblood.

"Ah, you came!" said the mudblood. "And so quickly."

"Miss Granger," Bellatrix nodded, again fighting her revulsion.

"Hermione. Please," she said. "Won't you come in? Don't mind the mess."

At first, Bellatrix took in the lay of the land. Or the room, as it were. The mudblood had one of the larger rooms, but as student housing went it was still on the cozy side. Long and narrow, she had made use of every inch of space. A bed and a wardrobe stood on one side of the room, opposite to a cupboard and a long desk. A rolled up carpet stood on the corner, ready for use. Several books lay spread out on the desk and none of them looked to be school books. She glanced at the title of one of the books. ' _Electrical Engineering. Advanced Course Book'_ , Bellatrix let the title sink in a bit. ' _What the devil is that supposed to be?'._ Several very confusing notes and schematics lay next to it.

The second half of the desk was occupied by quite an astonishing array of hair-care products: variations of oils, sprays, mousse, shampoos and enough brushes, combs and clips to supply an entire Parisian fashion show. With everything present to refresh, repair, moisturize and add shine, it went a long way to explain why the mudblood's hair always looked so immaculate.

It also struck her just how messy her room was. It seemed she had cleaned up a little... if shoving everything which was on the floor aside into a heap in the corner could be considered cleaning up on any level. Messy mudblood indeed.

There were plenty of other things which confused Bellatrix. On the wall, prominently displayed underneath a big blue 'Ravenclaw Jackdaws' banner, was a framed poster of three gentlemen. One of them, a rather dapper looking chap, wore a gold shirt and had a cheeky grin. The two other gentlemen wore blue shirts. One was an older looking gentleman with brown hair, and the other was a lanky chap with pointed ears and a raised eyebrow. The cupboard was filled with muggle contraptions and books written by people she didn't recognize. Bellatrix skimmed over them: ' _Frank Herbert. H.P Lovecraft. Isaac Asimov. William Gibson. Harlan Ellison. J.R.R. Tolkien. Douglas Adams. Terry Patchett. Who on Earth are these people?'_ Those certainly didn't sound like any wizard she had ever heard of.

An odd bit of ceiling decoration as well. From the ceiling hung an odd object made from what seemed to be three connected tubes and a disk on top. There was some writing on the bottom of the disk. ' _NCC-1701_ ', Bellatrix read. She wondered what that series of letters and numbers could mean before she remembered she didn't really care or had to care.

Another odd thing was the dog bed and the water dish next to it. The occupant of the dog bed had decided to lay claim on the mudblood's bed instead. An alsatian lay sprawled out and lazed about. He raised his head, took one look at Bellatrix and lay down again, resuming his lazying about. Curious. Certainly cat, toad and owl familiars were common, but she had never heard about dogs being allowed on school grounds, though obviously they were in this world or this beast wouldn't be here. The alsatian struck her as being an older, very much loved pet. Still, the fact that she let a filthy animal lay down on her own bed did nothing to further endear the mudblood to Bellatrix.

"Don't mind Spock," spoke the Hermione-mudblood. "He's just being lazy."

"Your ticket said something about your window not closing properly?" Bellatrix frowned.

"Ah, yes, uhm," she muttered as they made their way to the back of the room where the lone window was located. "I'm not sure what happened, but when I came back from class and wanted to shut the window, it wouldn't budge. It's getting a bit nippy, so I was hoping you'd come by to fix it for me."

Bellatrix examined the window. Now, the dark witch was absolutely no expert on mechanisms and contraptions, but she did learn quickly. This style of window was all over the castle and now she had seen enough of them to know that a part of the rail allowing the window to shut was missing. Furthermore, there was no way this part would have simply fallen off by accident.

"Miss Granger... Hermione," Bellatrix turned to her and cocked her head sideways. "Did you sabotage your own window?"

There was a blush and a stammer before the mudblood managed to catch herself, causing Bellatrix to cross her arms and raise her chin imperiously. "I... No! I..." the mudblood sighed. "Well... yes."

The Hermione-mudblood bent down and produced the missing part from under the bed. After taking a moment to scratch her dog behind the ear, she rose to her feet looking very embarrassed.

"Why go through this trouble?"

"I... wanted to see you again," the Hermione-mudblood stammered.

"You came by with a fruitbasket the day we met. We had a lengthy conversation after that Rugnarok game," Bellatrix said. "So it's safe to say you had no trouble seeking me out before. Why the deception now?"

"I didn't want to make things awkward. Which I now... totally did..." the girl closed her eyes and sighed. "I just watched to talk. Ask you more questions."

"Is that why you've been following me around?" Bellatrix chuckled. "Looking for the right opportunity to talk?"

"Look, I'm so sorry," spoke the girl, looking ever more embarrassed. "I didn't mean to waste your time. I was just hoping you'd spend some time repairing my window and we could simply talk a little. I meant no harm, truly."

Bellatrix first noticed the smell of perfume as a gust of wind came in through the window. She also noticed that the girl's brown hair had been tied back into a tidy tail with a precious looking clip. And the mudblood was wearing a nice shade of eye-shadow and had donned ruby-red lipstick. The girl had put in a bit of an effort to look and smell nice.

' _Merlin',_ Bellatrix realized to her delight. ' _She's_ attracted _to me..._ '

That would make things so much easier.

"Well," said Bellatrix. "Since you took the window apart yourself, you can obviously repair it yourself too."

The girl was instantly crestfallen, confirming Bellatrix's suspicions.

"But tell you what," she grinned. "Stop by my shack later after work when I'm done closing up all the gates. We can talk all you want. But right now, I've got a couple of boats to chase on the lake before they float out into open waters."

The girl beamed. "I would really like that!" she said eagerly, then caught herself. "I mean, yes, that'd be great."

"Maybe then you can tell me what that thing is," Bellatrix said, pointing at the tube-and-saucer contraption hanging from the ceiling.

"It's the Enterprise," the Hermione-mudblood spoke matter-of-factly, as if that was supposed to explain everything.

"Until later, miss Granger... Hermione," Bellatrix said, letting the name roll off her tongue in such a way that it caused the young mudblood to gulp.

"Until later," the girl smiled as Bellatrix left the room and closed the door behind her. And as Bellatrix walked away through the corridor, a wicked, wicked grin crossed her porcelain features.

* * *

The second gift of the day came after she had made good time wrangling all the boats from the lake. After making her way from the jetty back to the main castle, she came across a gathering of students. Apparently there was some sort of altercation happening. A group of students were gathered around two other students facing off, all the while shouting the word 'fight!' over and over again.

Now, it was expected of her to rush into the fray and separate the two troublemakers before it could get out of hand. But considering one of the troublemakers was her nephew Draco, she decided to hang back and let the whole thing play out a little and see what she could find out. In fact, she had learned from other students that Draco and this particular other boy had a long standing feud. Perhaps there was something there she could exploit.

The other troublemaker was a nasty-looking red-headed boy with a permanent sneer on his face. He, like Draco, had his wand out and was aiming it at her nephew. She took note of the fact that he had his wand out before Draco had.

"You're pathetic Malfoy," sneered the red-haired lad. "Just as pathetic as your disgrace of a father!"

"You take that back!" Draco retorted.

"Or what?" the red-haired lad laughed. "Gonna fly away on your carpet again? Run away and hide?"

Draco snorted. "At least I'm not someone who goes crying in his mummy's skirt whenever something doesn't go his way!"

"Your sad excuse for a father wasted his entire family fortune on a pipe-dream!" the red-haired boy retorted.

"At least my father is following his dreams!" Draco responded. "Your father is nothing more than a dull Ministry drone!"

"And look where it got him. And you!" the red-haired boy narrowed his eyes.

"You Weasleys are the cockroaches of the wizarding world!" Draco threw back. "Go scurry back to the rock you crawled out from under.

Bellatrix snorted involuntarily. ' _He's not wrong,'_ she thought with a grin.

That was apparently the last straw. Spells started to be slung as the two angry boys got into an impromptu duel of hexes and curses. It was time for Bellatrix to act before any of their curses would land on a bystander. She drew her wand, flicked a few movements and caused a small magical explosion between the boys. "Alright!" she shouted while striding towards them. "Break it up, you two."

The fight now being over before it had fully started, most students started to disperse. "Miss Black," Weasley tried. "He started it! Just ask anyone here! Hah, it's detention for you, Malfoy!"

"You mean your group of sad pathetic toadies who'll do anything you tell them to do?" Bellatrix glared at the group of boys and girls gathered behind the Weasley boy, and who were all starting to look a bit uneasy under her gaze. "I have _eyes_ , mister Weasley. And what I saw was you drawing your wand on Draco first. You obviously provoked him. Come with me, mister Weasley."

"What?" he blanched. "But... that's not fair!"

"I said!" Bellatrix hissed and grabbed the boy by the ear. "Come... with... ME!"

The Weasley boy squealed like a pig as he was being dragged by the ear by Bellatrix. The dark witch shot a glance over her shoulder to see her nephew giving her a smile and a grateful nod. Good... she'd scored some points with him. Meanwhile, the Weasley boy was struggling and crying out in pain. "My... MY FATHER WILL HEAR OF THIS!" he shouted.

"I'm certain he will," Bellatrix told him matter-of-factly. "I'll tell you when I start giving a shit."

The boy continued squirming all the way up to Snape's office. In fact, Bellatrix was sadistic enough to take the scenic route, leading up up a few winding straircases, down a landing and through the herbology section before finally ending up at Snape's office at Ravenclaw tower. She threw the door open and dragged the boy inside. Snape sat at his desk and looked up from the scroll he was scribbling on.

"Miss Black?" he asked.

"Starting a fight!" Bellatrix hissed. "Minus fifty points from Gryffindor!"

"What?! That's not fair!" Weasley protested.

"Talking back to a staff member!" Bellatrix added. "Minus ten points from Gryffindor!"

She saw Snape nod in approval. "Ronald Weasley," he slowly rose from his desk. "Must you be an eternal troublemaker?"

"It... it wasn't me! It was Malfoy!" Ronald Weasley whined. "And miss Black _hurt_ me!"

Snape rolled his eyes. "Have some dignity. This isn't the first time you've caused trouble and it won't be the last. And that's minus twenty points from Gryffindor for cowardly trying to shift the blame for your own actions."

"Oh, the Gryffindors are going to _love_ you today," Bellatrix cackled slightly. "Now get out of our sight before we dock more points!"

The boy looked around wildly, first to Snape and then to Bellatrix before running off into the room as if being chased by a hungry bear. The dark witch shook her head. "Typical."

"Well, you're certainly growing into your role quite adequately," said Snape, rubbing his neatly trimmed beard as he did so. "But why did you bring the Weasley boy all the way up here? You have authority to punish the students without my intervention and you did just fine on your own."

"Truth be told," Bellatrix lied. "I was on my way to your office anyway. I wanted to know more about one of the Ravenclaw students in particular. Miss Granger, to be precise."

"Miss Granger?" Snape frowned. "Has she been bothering you again? I shall ask her to leave you be or face severe punishment. She is already on thin ice as it is. If only she could have kept her mouth shut, we would have been able to keep your true identity a secret from the student body. The last thing Hogwarts needs right now is another scandal."

" _Another_ scandal?" Bellatrix probed. "There's been more?"

"Take your pick," said Snape, shaking his head in annoyance. "Money laundering, employing teachers without proper license, an embarrassingly high rate of teenage pregnancies and apparently we have lively black market selling illicit goods right under our noses. If I find the person running this black market, I'll have them expelled so fast they'll break through the sound barrier!"

"Hm," Bellatrix muttered. "I'll keep an eye out. But about miss Granger. No, I don't intend to cause her any trouble. It's just that she seems unusually interested in me."

Snape nodded, apparently taking the bait. "It's a pity, really. Miss Granger is undeniably a genius, but her coursework amounts to barely a passing grade. She could be so much more than she is."

"You make her sound like a slacker," said Bellatrix.

"She's not, she really isn't," Snape held up his hands. "I don't want to give the wrong impression. Miss Granger's issue isn't lack of focus, it's lack of interest."

"Seriously?" Bellatrix frowned. "How can that be an issue?"

"Yes. She muggle-born, you see?" said Snape. "While it is a given that wizarding families send their children to school to prepare for the rest of their magical lives, for many muggle-borns the act of discovering their magical heritage is a surprise and therefore jarring and invasive to their lives. The Ministry believes that muggle-borns should have the freedom to choose the course of their lives. So Hogwarts offers special courses for those who merely wish to learn how to control their magic powers and offers a range of correspondence and practical courses for further education in the muggle world after Hogwarts, so they can resume their normal lives afterward. Miss Granger is one of these people."

Bellatrix blinked once. Twice. "Are you telling me that miss Granger doesn't _want_ to be a witch?!"

"That's exactly what I'm telling you," said professor.

"But... she's good friends with two pure-bloods. From what I can tell they are really close," said Bellatrix. "If she doesn't want to be a witch then... how does that make any sense?"

"There's no law against a wizard or witch being friends with a muggle," said Snape. "I don't see any reason why their friendship has to end when miss Granger rejoins the muggles. Her magic won't stop working and she can visit whenever she wants. She simply seeks her future outside of the wizarding world."

"Hm," Bellatrix muttered, somewhat unable to grasp that someone would actually want to turn their back on magical society.

"It's a pity, really," said Snape. "She could make a real impact on the wizarding world if she would stay. Miss Granger puts little to no effort in classes or activities which do not hold her interest. The only reason she even joined the Ravenclaw Rugnarok team at all is because Lily encouraged her enjoyment of flying and flight sports. She could easily play on a professional level and though I hear she has been scouted by several teams, miss Granger has turned them all down. Miss Granger is simply dead set on returning to the muggle world. Pity though it might be, the choice is ultimately hers and hers alone."

Snape rubbed the bottom of his ringbeard for a moment. "Even so, it would behoove her to keep her hands off the girls, get her head out of the clouds and stop spreading wild stories. I suppose, it's hard to fault her for burying her head into to silly muggle fantasy tales, considering her personal history."

 _'Hm, that's interesting',_ Bellatrix thought. "What history is that?"

Snape shook his head. "Her _personal_ history," he crossed his arms. "Unlike her, I'm not one for spreading rumors or private information. Ask her yourself if you want to know."

' _Oh, I think I will,'_ Bellatrix thought gleefully. The dark witch was about to speak some empty words of gratitude when there was a knock on the door.

"Enter," Snape called. The door hinge slowly moved and the door slipped to a crack. A tiny red-haired girl, probably a first year, popped her head into the room. Her green eyes were large and innocent, and slightly watery. Obviously, something had happened.

"Dad?" the girl whispered, barely holding back her sobs.

' _DAD?!'_ Bellatrix's jaw almost hit the floor.

"Maisie," Snape's voiced deepened. "We've discussed this before. During school hours, you will address me as 'Professor'. Especially in front of students or staff."

The girl was distraught enough without this added complication and obviously wanted some comforting from a parent. She processed the information and looked up again. "Professor dad?"

That made Bellatrix chuckle slightly, inadvertently embarrassing Snape even further. Snape's expression darkened considerably, making the girl wince.

"Dry your tears and stand up straight," Snape demanded. "Maisie, you're a big girl now. It's time for you to act your age."

"But... but... but..." Maisie sobbed and ran away into the hallway crying profusely. The dark witch crossed her arms as she regarded Snape. She hadn't meant to get the tiny witchling into trouble. Still, it wasn't Bellatrix's fault that the girl had an emotional bonehead for a father.

"You could have handled that better," said Bellatrix.

"When I desire your parental advice," Snape glowered. "I will ask for it."

"Fine!" Bellatrix held up her arms and headed out the door. Once outside, the girl was nowhere in sight, but it wasn't her problem either way. Still, it was time to close off the Hidden Tomb and make her final rounds for the day. As well as making some preparations for her visitor.

* * *

Bellatrix didn't have to wait long for miss Granger to show up. She had just finished her final rounds locking up the gates, the library and the astronomy tower when she returned to her shack to throw herself on the sofa. Today had been another hard day at work. Looking at the board, however, she saw that no new service-requests had come in, so tomorrow she should have an easier day. Bellatrix leaned back on the sofa and contemplated lighting another cigarette when there was a knock on the door.

 _'Come into my web, said the spider to the fly',_ Bellatrix grinned. "Enter. The door is unlocked."

Indeed, her guest had arrived. Miss Granger peeked her head into the room. "Oh, wow," she said. "You know, I've passed this shack so many times but I've never actually been inside. It's a bit of alright, isn't it?"

"I've certainly stayed in worse places," said Bellatrix. "Do come in."

"Thank you," said the mudblood girl, with the dark witch taking note of her perfume and make-up. "Again, I'm so sorry I wasted your time under false pretenses. It was just... a silly idea."

"No need to apologize," Bellatrix forced a smile. "Do sit down."

Hermione smiled and did so. She opened her mouth to speak, but then her gaze fell on the packet of camels lying on the coffee table. Bellatrix followed her gaze and gave her a questioning look.

"W-would you mind if I have one?"

Honestly, the last thing she expected was for the mudblood to bum a fag off her. The dark witch picked up the packet and held it out. After Hermione had taken one, she took out one herself and lit first hers and then Hermione's with her wand. Hermione inhaled and then exhaled, sinking back into the chair smiling blissfully. "Oh... heaven," she sighed.

Well. At least they had that in common.

"I didn't realize you smoked," said Bellatrix as she shifted the ashtray in between them.

"Believe me, I haven't in far too long a time," said the mudblood. "I was busted in the girl's bathroom and had to spend a month in detention. Parkinson stopped selling to me. Said I was too big a liability. Bitch."

"A month of detention for a cigarette?" Bellatrix asked.

"Well, uhm," was a rather blushy, demure reply. "I was sharing a cigarette with another girl and, well, we weren't exactly fully clothed when we were caught."

"Ah, I see," said Bellatrix. "Well, you're welcome to bum a fag off me whenever you want. Just don't smoke them all and leave nothing for me."

Hermione took another drag from her cigarette. "Thanks. This is real magic, this is."

"Now, you said you wanted to talk," asked Bellatrix.

"Just... curious," smiled the mudblood. "I want to know more about your world. About you. Who were you back in your own world? How often do you get the chance to talk to someone whom has traveled between universes. There's so much I want to know."

"Not much to tell," said Bellatrix. _'I was a death eater who tortured poor pathetic creatures like you into insanity. And I did so with pride'._

Of course, that wouldn't do. She'd have to maneuver carefully. "I was... a soldier for the better part of my life. A soldier in a war which has lasted for decades now. Spent some time as a POW. Fought. Killed. Almost died. All to make the wizarding world a better place."

None of that was true. But none of that was a lie either. She'd have the mudblood fill in the gaps herself. Let her think she was a soldier for a vague righteous cause.

"I didn't expect that," replied her muddy guest. "We haven't had a wizarding war since the Dumbledore-Grindelwald coalition."

"Hm, we've had two," said Bellatrix, taking another drag. "And those could easily be seen as a single conflict. We were fighting for the future of our wizarding world."

"I'm sorry," said Hermione. "You must have seen some horrible things."

"The worst part was being a POW," said Bellatrix. "There were times I didn't think I would survive."

That, honestly, hit a little bit close to home. Azkaban, the place she hated most in the world. The place that stole fourteen of the best years of her life. She preferred not to think about it.

"Your world sounds awful," replied the mudblood.

"Oh, it has its good sides," said Bellatrix. "And it's _my_ world. I need to go back there. I still have duties to fulfill. The battle has not yet been won."

"You want to go back to fight?" the mudblood seemed genuinely confused by this. "Would you rather not stay here? We've been at peace for over seventy years."

"No," said Bellatrix resolutely. "I could never be at peace here knowing that my work is not finished in my own world. I simply do not belong here."

The girl nodded before taking another drag. "I can understand that," she said. "I know how that feels. Not to belong, I mean."

"Do you?" said Bellatrix. "I talked to Snape earlier today. About you, I mean."

The muddy girl chuckled and took another drag from her cigarette. She threw her head back and puffed out a bit of smoke. "Oh, trust me, I've had that conversation with Snape many times before. Tells me all the time that I'm wasting my talent. That I'm throwing away the chance of a lifetime. But the simple truth is that I don't want to be a witch. I never wanted to be a witch."

"At least you're admitting it to yourself. Few outsiders ever do," said Bellatrix and put out her cigarette in the ashtray. Truth be told, she was torn between being insulted that someone was rejecting magic, or to somewhat respect the girl for knowing her place better than most.

"See? You understand!" said the girl, a happy smile crossing her admittedly lovely features. "Nobody else does. Not even Draco and Luna. Don't get me wrong, I love the bones of them and they will always be my friends, but... not even they get it. I suppose I shouldn't fault them. They both grew up in this world and simply don't know any better."

Bellatrix nodded and she did understand, truly she did. "This might be a magical world, but I certainly feel like I don't belong. It might be... interesting to stay here for a short time, but I have a life in my own world. It's not perfect, but it is my own. What about you? If you don't want to be a witch, what do you want to be?"

"I'm studying to be an electrical engineer," said the muddy girl, her eyes lighting up. "I want to build things. And I'm really good at it too! Horace, an old friend of my father owns his own business. He's promised me an apprenticeship as an electrician when I graduate from Hogwarts. I'm also really good at welding and metal work. I constructed a lot of things for Lucius. That's Draco's father, by the way."

"I know who he is," Bellatrix listened, intrigued.

"I actually made the funnel and the framework for the contraption used in the original teleportation experiment, even refined it someone using modern techniques," said Hermione, putting out her cigarette in the ashtray. "I love building things. I love working with my hands."

Suddenly, the girl leaned in closer, smiling warmly. "There's a lot of girls at Hogwarts who know exactly how _good_ I am with my hands."

' _Oh, she is a flirt'_ , Bellatrix thought until she suddenly realized the mudblood was touching her again. The girl had lain her hand on hers, but Bellatrix had never noticed when. Just as she was only now noticing that Hermione had been gently rubbing her skin between her thumb and index finger in soothing patterns. The dark witched wondered how she had failed to catch either thing.

Another thing she had failed to notice was how Hermione's face was suddenly a lot closer to hers. In fact, she was slowly tilting her head ever so slightly, lips at the ready. Soulful brown eyes were gazing into hers.

Deep, mesmerizing soulful brown eyes...

Bellatrix snapped out of her haze just in time. "Hermione," she spoke quickly. "It's time for lights-out soon. You don't want be caught in the hallways."

The mudblood smiled. If she was distraught, she didn't show it. "Perhaps you're right," said Hermione. "I've had enough detention for one year. I loved our chat, though. Could I come back another time?"

"Of course," nodded Bellatrix.

"A good evening, then," the girl smiled warmly and shot her one last whistful look before heading out the door, leaving a somewhat confused Bellatrix sitting on the sofa. Bellatrix expected that she'd be doing the seduction tonight, but somehow, somewhere, the girl had turned the table on her and didn't quite knew what to make of it. She certainly hadn't expected the mudblood to be this... aggressive.

"Soulful brown eyes?" Bellatrix muttered to herself. "For Merlin's sake, get a grip, Bella."


	5. Turnabout Intruder

Mostly by chance, Bellatrix had found out that the trio tended to spend the evenings not in the Ravenclaw common room but rather in one of Hogwarts' many breakrooms outside of the House spaces. This made sense, in a way, as they tended to keep to themselves. This particular breakroom was large enough to have a parapet running around the entire chamber with multiple entrances from either floor and large supporting columns. Perfect for Bellatrix to keep to the shadows while spying on them.

Like the days before, she had watched them from the shadows in this very room, chatting, laughing together, playing a few games, doing homework and discussing the events of the day. Even to Bellatrix, it was obvious that the three were very close friends.

Today, the mudblood had brought her canine and the three sat around the table as usual, rather animatedly sharing tales. The dark witch nodded in approval when she heard Draco recount the story of his confrontation with the Weasley boy earlier that day, adding in the detail of Bellatrix swooping in and dragging him off by his ear. The mudblood nodded in approval, telling them both how amazing she was.

Perfect. She'd made plenty of headway in winning their confidence.

Suddenly, she felt a stark cold brief besides her as a familiar ghost girl came flying through the walls.

"Oh, hi!" Ghost-Bellatrix greeted far too cheerfully for her liking. Ghost-Bellatrix was uncomfortably loud, but so far the trio were too engrossed in their tales to have noticed. Her ghostly robe billowed around her while almost swimming through the air, looking rather pleased with herself.

"Ah," Bellatrix grimaced, hissing at the invader. "It's you."

Ghost-Bellatrix stood, or rather levitated, next to her, placing her hands on the railing and causing a thin layer of ice to form on its surface. "Fancy our Hermione, do you?"

Bellatrix bristled. "Certainly not! Whatever gave you that idea?"

Ghost-Bellatrix giggled. "I saw her skulking about in the dark and heading into your shack. And she didn't come out until much, much later."

Bellatrix cursed inwardly. If this tidbit of news were to hit the Hogwarts rumor mill it could bring trouble... "I assure you that was strictly platonic," Bellatrix hissed. "I am not interested in her in the slightest! And if I catch you spreading vicious rumors..."

"Why not?" Ghost-Bellatrix asked with a smile. "Big rugnarok star like her gets a lot of female attention and she's left acres of satisfied ladies in her wake. Let's see, I'll probably forget to mention a few, but I know there was Lavender, Susan, Mindy, Cho, Merula, Eleanor, Megan, Lisa, Morag, Daphne and the Ishikawa twins. Both of them at the same time if the rumors are to be believed."

The dark witch shook her head in disgust. "Lovely. A mudblood and a mud _slut_. Your lovely miss Granger is certainly true to all the cliches about her kind."

Ghost-Bellatrix frowned as she leaned on the railing, causing more ice to spread over the railing. "I don't know what either of those things are, but they sound nasty."

"They are," Bellatrix said. "Nasty and to be avoided!"

Ghost-Bellatrix chuckled. "I think you two should just kiss and get it over with. I know what I'd do if I were still alive."

Bellatrix bristled and started rubbing her temples. "Look, don't you have any bathrooms to haunt?"

"What? Why would I want to haunt a nasty damp bathroom?!" Ghost-Bellatrix huffed. "Besides, the last time I went near a bathroom, I accidentally snap-froze the water in the pipes and ruined all the plumbing. Filch was cursing my name for weeks. There's much more nicer places to be. Some of my fellow ghosts are unlucky and are fettered to a nasty drafty corridor or a moldy attic, but my fetter is pretty much the whole of school grounds."

"That means you don't strictly need to be here, now do you?" said Bellatrix. "Go bother the whomping willow. Or go scare some goblins. Or freeze the greenhouse for all I care."

"Fine, I know when I'm not wanted. I'll talk to you again when you're in a better mood," Ghost-Bellatrix said before she raised herself to stand on the railing. "Have fun ogling Hermione," she added with a wink and, with a cheerful whoop, jumped down the railing as if to dive into an Olympic swimming pool. The laughing ghost hit the stone floor and disappeared out of sight, leaving a thick trail of ice crystals behind.

This, unfortunately, had the side-effect of attracting the attention of the three people she was trying to spy on.

' _She did that on purpose!'_ the dark witch fumed. ' _Was I really that much of an irritant brat when I was her age?'_

"Wuf!" sounded from the dog as the canine had finally awakened and barked in her general direction. No sense in denying it now. Bellatrix moved from her hiding spot and made her way down the winding staircase to ground floor, approaching the group.

"Good evening, miss Black," Draco greeted. "We're not past curfew are we? What's the time?"

"Not to worry," Bellatrix forced a smile. "You still have plenty of time. I heard some commotion while I was doing my rounds, so I came to investigate."

The Lovegood-girl appeared to be scrutinizing her carefully, while Hermione smiled. "We weren't being too loud, I hope?"

"Nothing of the sort," said Bellatrix. "But why aren't you at the Ravenclaw common room?"

"Eh, they don't always appreciate our sense of humor," Draco muttered.

Bellatrix was about to speak when she stiffened and clutched her hands and arms to her chest. Hermione's dog had found his way over to her and was now actively sniffing her dress. It didn't take long for the friendly dog to start pawing at her.

"Spock!" Hermione quickly rushed over. "No!"

The alsatian whined a bit when Hermione took him by the collar and guided him back to her side of the table. The smiling Hermione sat one the chair and took her dog in a fierce hug, rubbing the fur on his belly and kissing the top of his head. "Who's a good doggo? Who's a very good doggo?" Hermione cooed while the dog started licking her face. " _You_ 're a good doggo, oh yes yes, you are!"

_'Ugh.'_

"Miss Black, I never got the chance to thank you for picking my side during... you know, what happened with Weasley the other day," said Draco.

"Well, the Weasley boy was clearly in the wrong and drew his wand on you first," said Bellatrix. "Why wouldn't I pick your side?"

Draco sighed. "Because of Arthur Weasley."

Bellatrix replied. "So?"

Draco laughed at this own foolishness. "Of course you don't know yet. Weasley's father is the Minister of Magical education. Most of the teachers are too cowardly to cross him, so Weasleys get away with everything. Besides Snape, you're the only one who's been fair."

"Titles don't impress me, mister Malfoy," Bellatrix crossed her arms.

"Good to know," said Draco. "Oh, it's good that I see you, by the way. I should warn you. Dumbledore contacted mum about you. I suppose it was only a matter of time."

Bellatrix frowned. "The old goat didn't inform me about this."

"He'll have to soon," said Draco. "Got the letter for my mum a few hours ago. She left the manor immediately to come see you. Dumbledore wanted to set an appointment for tomorrow, but mum didn't want to wait. I guess she'll be there in an hour or so. The manor is some three hours away by carpet. She didn't even wait for the train, just rushed right over."

' _Hm, this complicates matters,'_ Bellatrix thought. ' _I might have to move up my time-table'_

"She'll probably drag aunt Andromeda with her too," Draco chuckled. "It's going to be one hell of a family reunion."

"Oh, wonderful," Bellatrix rolled her eyes. "A visit from the Tonks clan. That's all I need."

"Tonks?" the Lovegood-girl frowned. "Who's Tonks?"

"Ted Tonks!" Bellatrix exclaimed. "Andie's layabout of a husband!"

Draco frowned. "But... aunt Andromeda isn't married. She lives alone in Hogsmeade and owns a bakery. Her sweets are very popular with the kids here."

That gave her pause. Andromeda... Andie... _wasn't_ a blood-traitor in this world? She drew in a sharp breath when the realization hit her that she could... she could see her sister again. Bellatrix quickly dismissed the thought. No. This Andie wasn't her sister. Still, the thought that she should speak to Andie, in any form, was a very pleasant one.

"Thank you for the warning, I suppose," Bellatrix rubbed her hand through her dark mane. "And here I was hoping to go to bed early today."

Draco leaned forward. "Miss Black, I've been meaning to ask... what are _we_ like in your world?"

"Yesssss!" Hermione sat up straight. "I'm almost too afraid to hear it, but I must know too."

"It would seem interesting," Luna added. "But what are the chances she actually met any of us? Or that we even exist in the other world?"

"She must know _me,"_ said Draco. "She's my aunt, after all."

Bellatrix thought for a moment and took a seat at the table. "Draco, lad," said Bellatrix. "In my world, you a dedicated student, loyal to your family and your ideals. You are proud of your family and your heritage and wish to bring them to further greatness. You're talented young wizard and a quick learner. I personally taught you... the other you... occlumency and you took to it like a fish to water."

"Heh," said Draco. "Sounds a lot like I am in this world."

"Well," Luna laughed. "Except for the talented wizard part."

"Hey!" Draco laughed and treated Luna to a playful punch to the shoulder.

"You are, however," Bellatrix continued, ignoring the banter, " quite picky about the company you keep. The Draco in my world would have never been friends with these two girls."

Draco lowered his gaze a little. "Life without Schwarzenegger and Dreamer? I honestly can't imagine that."

"As for miss Lovegood," said Bellatrix. "I have met the other miss Lovegood once, fleetingly. She's a rather... quirky girl with an odd sense of fashion. She's prone to believing in wild conspiracy theories and spends most of the time daydreaming. Generally, she seems a bit loopy."

The Lovegood-girl rolled her eyes. "Great. The other me is a woo-peddling airhead. Just great."

"Now me!" Hermione pushed forward. "Oh, please tell me you've met the other me. I'm so curious."

Bellatrix fell silent for a moment. Of course she had met the other Hermione. She remembered the girl's cries for mercy, the screams, her horror as she writhed underneath her while the dark witch tortured her in various creative ways. ' _Please'_ she had heard the girl cry out. ' _I haven't stolen anything. Please!'_

"No," said Bellatrix, wisely deciding to keep that particular tidbit of information to herself. "I've never met you in my world. I'm sorry."

To say that Hermione was crestfallen was the understatement of the year. "Oh," the girl whispered softly as she pointed her gaze to the table in disappointment.

"Hey, chin up," said Draco, putting his hand on her shoulder. "With the number people on the world and all the different permutations and whatnot, it's a small miracle she's met any of our other selves."

"That sounds like something I would say," Luna added.

"Hey, I have been paying attention," Draco winked.

Hermione suddenly perked up. "Oh, I do have another question. Sorry, but I just have to know this. It's about children's books."

Immediately, Luna buried her head in her hands a muttered something unintelligible along the lines of 'oh dear god why?'. The mudblood continued on, either not noticing or not caring. "Are they called the Berenstein Bears, spelled with 'ei' or Berenstain Bears, spelled 'ai'?"

Though the mudblood was looking at her expectantly, she would have to disappoint her for a second time. Part of her wanted to shout back at the girl not to bother her with odd questions about bears, but she forced to remain polite. "I'm afraid I don't understand the question."

The mudblood pursed her lips, having been foiled again.

"Allow me to explain," Luna jumped in. "There is a series of muggle children's books, popular in the wizarding world, mind you, about a family of bears called the Berenst _ei_ n Bears. But there's a lot of people who remember them being called the Berenst _ai_ n Bears. It's not odd, as the two variations of the name sound very alike. The very simple and obvious explanation is that people simply remember it wrong. But then there are people who don't want to admit to that and come up with elaborate fantasies about shifting dimensions and people traveling from one universe to the other. Right, Hermione?"

"Well!" Hermione held out two hands towards Bellatrix, as if her mere presence was enough to prove her point.

"The circumstances of miss Black traveling across universes are beyond extraordinary, Hermione!" Luna replied, narrowing her eyes. "You know this! You were part of it! People don't just randomly swap universes!"

"I mean, it could happen!" Hermione huffed.

"Oh, Merlin, you listen to every damn flim flam artist you come across!" Luna shook her head. "What's next? Are you going to claim Nelson Mandela is still alive? He died in the 80's, Hermione! It's on record!"

"Records can be forged," Hermione retorted. "And there are plenty of people who claim to have seen him alive and well."

"There are people who claim to have seen Paul McCartney alive as well, Hermione, but he's _still_ dead and buried!" Luna returned, getting irate and raising her voice more than a little.

"Right, right, calm down Schwarzenegger," said Draco, holding her by the arm for a moment. Luna took a few deep breaths, shook her head and remained silent.

Bellatrix had watched them quibble for a moment, studied their interplay and had come to certain conclusions. Luna was far more passionate that she tended to let on and had strong convictions. The mudblood was smart, certainly, but also definitely gullible. Draco, in the meantime, was down to Earth and calm, often acting as an arbiter in the fiery relationship between his other two friends. The three of them also had a tendency to keep to themselves. The dark witch still figured that her best in-road was through Hermione. The nickname Draco had given her, 'Dreamer', was a fitting one. Hermione _wanted_ to believe and thus would be easiest to manipulate. A lie here, a sob-story there... yes, she would do nicely.

Any further conversation was interrupted by the imperious arrival of Severus Snape. His cloak billowed as he walked and came to a stop at the table. In tow was the same red-haired girl Bellatrix had seen earlier this week: Maisie Snape, the spawn of Snivellus. The tiny girl had trouble keeping up with her father and was glad to finally catch up.

"Ah, miss Black," said Snape. "I have been sent to find you. You are expected in the Head Master's office. Please head there immediately."

"Hm," Bellatrix turned to Draco. "It seems my sister has arrived."

A flash of annoyance crossed Snape's features and he turned to glare to Draco. "I see mister Malfoy has spoken before his turn."

Draco seemed to shrink a little. "Well, uhm, she was here anyway and mum sent that letter, so I figured..."

"Next time, leave any communications concerning Hogwarts staff to either me or the Head Master," Snape demanded. "Even if it concerns family. Do I make myself clear, mister Malfoy?"

"Yes, sir," Draco gulped.

By now, the girl was tugging on Snape's robe. The imperious wizard slowly turned his head towards her. "Dad," she asked. "Why won't you read me a story before bedtime?"

"Maisie," Snape glowered.

"P-professor," the girl stammered. "Please read me a story? Pretty please?"

"Maisie," Snape narrowed his eyes. "You are a Hogwarts student now. It's time for you to start growing up."

"But," Maisie pressed. "We always had so much fun when you read me stories. You did voices and everything!"

Bellatrix's eyes almost bulged out of her skull. Not only because of the mental imagine of Severus Snape of all people doing voices while reading to a child, but also how the girl failed to realize just how much embarrassment she had caused her father before other students and staff.

Next to her, she saw Draco shaking his head. "Don't do it, man," he muttered under his breath. "Don't do it..."

Snape narrowed his eyes. "Talking back to a teacher," he started. "Minus ten points from Ravenclaw!"

Next to her, she heard Draco groan quietly. "Oh, for fuck's sake..."

The girl looked on incredulously and then burst into tears. Snape was merciless and turned on his heels, his cloak swishing as he did so. "And stop your crying!" he snapped as he walked off into the hallway, leaving his daughter standing there.

Hermione shook her head. "How can a man that smart be such an emotional bonehead?" she muttered. "We already know she's a teacher's daughter and we already like her. It's not as if we're all going to magically stop liking her if he stops to give her a hug in the hallway every so often."

Immediately, Draco stood up and walked over to the girl, kneeling down besides her. "Hey," he spoke gently while Hermione joined him by the girl's side. "Let's get you back to Ravenclaw tower, hm? I think there's a few stories from Tales of Beedle the Bard we haven't covered yet."

"And Spock'll be happy to sleep on your bed tonight. He loves being cuddled," Hermione smiled, taking the girl by the hand. She waved her goodbye to Bellatrix and started leading her into the hallway with both Draco and Spock in tow.

"How about leave Beedle the Bard for later and we start of with the story of the brave Captain Kirk fighting the Gorn on Cestus III?!" Hermione raved. "Draco will be the Gorn!"

"I will?" Draco asked.

"You will!" Hermione raised her chin resolutely. "You know I'm always Captain Kirk!"

"Nrgh," Draco muttered.

"I'll let you be McCoy next time."

Bellatrix watched them go. Today was another eventful day, and if Cissy had really arrived just now, it the day was not yet over. She had best prepare herself mentally for what was to come since she had absolutely no idea what to expect from Cissy. However, after getting up from her chair and turning towards the corridor, the Lovegood-girl was blocking her way. The Lovegood-girl gave her an odd look; she stood there with narrowed eyes, staring her down.

"Why did you just lie to Hermione?" Luna asked, a sharp edge on her voice.

Bellatrix crossed her arms. "I'm not sure what you mean, little girl," she said, doing her best to intimidate her.

"Yes, you do," Luna shot back. "You _were_ lying. You _have_ met the other Hermione in your world. Which leads to two possible conclusions. Either you were avoiding telling her the truth in an effort to spare her feelings for whatever reason, but I sincerely doubt that. Or, you are hiding something, which I find far more likely."

"But what would I be trying to hide? Enlighten me," Bellatrix spoke innocently. Luna's gaze never faltered.

"I'll be frank," countered Luna. "I don't trust you. And I don't like the way you're treating Hermione."

"What is it you think you know?" Bellatrix matched her steely gaze.

"I don't think! I am certain!" Luna took a step forward. "I see the mask you're wearing, but your eyes don't lie! You _hate_ Hermione! You hate her to the very core of her being!"

Bellatrix did her best to hide any change in her mood from this unusually perceptive girl. ' _You are so lucky you're not in my world, little witchling. Or you would already be dead now...'_

"Is that so?" Bellatrix raised an eyebrow.

"Don't bother. Save your breath! You've been lying and manipulating your way through Hogwarts since the day you arrived!" Luna almost yelled. "Look, you want to go home. I get it. I understand. You know as well as I do that Dumbledore has no idea how to send you back and that trying to repeat the experiment is your best chance… your only chance. I understand what you're trying to do, but I detest the way you're going about it."

Luna sighed heavily. "Thing is… Hermione won't believe me. She has her head in the clouds. Oh, Luna, you're being silly. Oh, Luna, miss Black is so nice! Oh, Luna, stop being such a doubting Thomas. But rest assured, I got my eye on you."

Bellatrix suddenly lurched forward, grabbing the girl by both her shoulders and looking her deep into the eyes. "Well, maybe you should look elsewhere, hm? Curious little girls have a tendency to curiously disappear," she hissed, a slightly mad girlish giggle following that statement.

"You think I'm afraid of you? Guess again," Luna spoke bravely, but the slight crack in her voice told Bellatrix otherwise. "Hermione is my friend! If you do anything and I mean anything to use her for your own benefit or hurt her feelings in any way, I swear you're going to regret it!"

Luna pulled herself away from Bellatrix and stomped off into the corridor. The dark witch watched her leave and put her fingers to her lips. Hm, this girl could be a big problem for her plans. She'd have to watch out for that one. Still, Luna wasn't as smart as she thought she was: by confronting Bellatrix, she had already played her hand. Not only that, but she had also let it slip that Hermione wasn't ready to believe her warnings. The Lovegood-girl's position wasn't nearly as strong as she herself believed.

She'd have to worry about it later. Cissy had arrived. With some trepidation, Bellatrix started her trek towards the head master's office.


	6. Catspaw

Bellatrix was still an entire corridor away from the Head Master's office when she could already hear the shouting. In response, the dark witch picked up the pace and followed the even increasing noise. Of course, it quickly became apparent that the shouting was very much one-sided.

Cissy was red in the face as she stood leaning over at Dumbledore's, her finely decorated nails digging into the wood of his desk. Behind the desk sat a very demure and almost frightened Dumbledore, holding up his hands and trying to get a word it. Bellatrix decided not to intervene and leaned into the doorpost, enjoying the moment for as long as she wouldn't be noticed by either of them.

"... it is bad enough!" Narcissa shouted, her golden locks dancing as she shook her head in utter rage. "That you embarrass my husband by having him dragged out of the school in front of all the students, ban him from school grounds and refuse to answer any of his letters! But now you drop this bombshell on us?! How long were you planning to keep this a secret from me?! From our family?!"

"Mrs. Malfoy," Dumbledore visibly gulped. "Surely understand how unusual the nature of this situation..."

"UNUSUAL MY ARSE!" Narcissa retorted with an even louder shriek. That caused Bellatrix to have to stifle her laughter. She wasn't used to her little sister being this coarse. She noticed more differences now, particularly in the way she was dressed; the Narcissa she knew would only wear the finest dresses, the most expensive leathers and the most intricate of embroideries. The green dress Narcissa was wearing now certainly nice, but a considerable step down from the 'finest'. She supposed that the rumors that the Malfoys had far less wealth in this world were quite true.

"THREE WEEKS!" Narcissa shouted back at Dumbledore. "SHE'S BEEN HERE A WHOLE THREE WEEKS!"

"Mrs Malfoy, please!"

"YOU ONLY CARE ABOUT THE REPUTATION OF YOUR PRECIOUS SCHOOL!" Narcissa shook her head. "Do have any idea what this means to our family? Are you even bothered to care?"

"I contacted you as soon as we thought it was wise to do so," Dumbledore interjected. "In the meantime, we've been providing good care for..."

"And what about poor Andromeda?! She'd been living with the weight of so much guilt crushing down on her for decades now. This would mean so much for her and you haven't even deigned to inform her! SHE DOESN'T EVEN LIVE HALF A MILE AWAY FROM THE SCHOOL!"

"You know as well as I do that Andromeda's state of mind is quite fragile. I thought it best to hear the news from family..."

"LET ME DO YOUR DIRTY WORK FOR YOU?!" Narcissa shrieked. "Is that what you meant to say?"

"No!" Dumbledore protested. "You must realize how outlandish..."

"Between my husband's research and miss Granger's many fanciful tales," Narcissa pressed. "Outlandish is a foreign concept in my household!"

Bellatrix felt the time was right to announce herself. She let out a dramatic cough, attracting the attention of both other occupants of the room. "Excuse me," she half-joked. "I'd be happy to come back later if I'm interrupting anything."

"NO!" Dumbledore yelled, but quickly caught himself. "Miss Black, please come in."

Cissy stood there, frozen. Her expression conveyed a torrent of emotions. Disbelief. Sadness. Joy. Not to mention lingering anger towards Dumbledore. "Bella?" she asked with a soft voice which was so much in contrast with her angry shouting that it was almost jarring. "Is that really you?"

The dark witched smiled. "It was the last time I looked."

"Oh, Bella!" Narcissa rushed forward and didn't hesitate to take her in a rib-crushing embrace. One which Bellatrix quickly reciprocated. It was odd, really. She had never received this kind of affection from Narcissa: the term ice-queen wouldn't be an ill-fitting description. But this world's Cissy embraced her with all the might of a sister meeting a long-lost and much loved sibling.

Narcissa released her and lay her hands on her perceived sister's cheeks, gazing in her eyes for a moment. "You have no idea how good it is to see you," she whispered, eyes slightly watery.

Bellatrix could barely nod. It was good to feel wanted for a change. Her own sister, her own Cissy, didn't want her in her house: oh, she tried to hide it underneath politeness and false smiles, but her own sister feared her so much that she'd rather see her go. This Cissy was different.

It was then that Narcissa turned around and snapped at Dumbledore once again. "THREE WEEKS!" she shrieked again, causing Bellatrix to cringe at the sudden sharp increase in decibels.

"I apologize!" Dumbledore tried. "Look, if there is any way to make it up to you, I..."

"There is!" Narcissa raised her chin imperiously. "This week is free weekend. Give Bellatrix time off to reconnect with her family at our manor home. Starting immediately."

Bellatrix mulled that over. Free weekend was a concept which didn't exist in her world: every second weekend of the month, students of year seven were allowed to spend a long three-day weekend at home to get used to life outside of the school. Classes were planned around this recurring event. Furthermore, eighth years got to spend every Saturday and Sunday off school grounds. It was an interesting idea, one Bellatrix wished had existed in her own world.

"Fine!" Dumbledore threw up his arms.

"Draco will be excused from his school work too," said Narcissa. "This is an important family moment. It's the least you can do."

Bellatrix smiled when she saw the old goat squirm under Cissy's steely gaze. "Mrs Malfoy, it is Wednesday evening. Your son has classes tomorrow."

"It is..." Narcissa hissed ominously. "... the _least_ you can do."

Dumbledore muttered under his breath. "Fine."

"And my son's two friends."

"Honestly, mrs Malfoy, that is too much!" Dumbledore protested. "They are not family."

"For all intents and purposes," Narcissa pressed. "They are."

That got Bellatrix's attention. Cissy considered the Lovegood-girl and... a _mudblood_ girl to be part of her family? Thing really _were_ different here. Still, she couldn't complain: all this had gotten her another step closer to achieving this goal. She'd have all those whom had run the experiment which brought her here under one roof. So far, everything was going to plan.

"Fine!" Dumbledore said, apparently giving up on fighting her sister. "I'll inform the three of them as soon as possible."

"I'm certain they won't complain about an extra free day. Come, Bella," Narcissa said, taking her sister by the hand and practically dragging her out of the office. "I've had enough of this miserable place for one day!"

"Cissy," Bellatrix called as she could barely keep pace with her sister's strides through the corridors of the castle. "Where are we going?"

"To the manor, of course!" said Narcissa. "I shall collect the children and we shall leave immediately."

"Wait!" said Bellatrix. "We leave now?"

"We leave now!" Narcissa demanded. "After we fetch the children."

"Stop. Cissy! Stop!" Bellatrix sighed. "It's been a long day and I've spent most of the afternoon cleaning out spider-vole traps. As much as I want to go, Cissy, I could really use a hot shower, a meal and a good night's rest first. I don't fancy a four-hour long evening ride on a flying carpet and I don't think Draco, Luna and Hermione do either."

Cissy seemed thoughtful for a moment. "Perhaps you're right," she put her finger to her lips, pacing through the corridor as she did so. The two of them walked back to the common room where Bellatrix had found the trio relaxing earlier. "And then there's the matter of Andie. Poor Andie. The old goat might be a coward, but he has the right of it: it's better if she hears this news from me. Tell you what, I'll head over to Hogsmeade to visit Andie and bring her to the manor. You and the children could travel by train tomorrow. It's best if you and Andie meet in a familiar environment."

' _Don't assume I'm familiar with anything in your world,'_ Bellatrix chuckled inwardly. Cissy wanted so much for her to be her sister that she appeared blinded to the thought that Bellatrix might just be a very different person than the sister she was used to.

"What about the ghost?" Bellatrix asked.

"Ghost?" Cissy frowned.

"You know, the... other me... here at Hogwarts," said Bellatrix. "I met her recently. If you're so happy to see me, what about..."

"Don't..." Cissy spoke with a coldness Bellatrix hadn't heard in her voice before, with an expression to match. "... mention that _thing_ to me. That wraith is _not_ my sister. She never was! My sister has passed on to her eternal rest in the afterlife. That _abomination_ floating around here is nothing but an echo she left behind which only happens to bear her shape and some of her memories. Seeing her would bring only pain and misery."

' _Harsh_ ', Bellatrix thought, and the way Cissy had rejected her actually made her feel a little for the admittedly annoying Ghost-Bellatrix. The ghost girl was usually active around this time in the evening, and Bellatrix genuinely hoped that her ghostly counterpart wasn't currently close enough to have heard that.

"Oh, Bella," Cissy's expression softened again as she took her in another embrace. "It's so good to have you back."

Reluctantly, ever so reluctantly, her sister let go of her, said a tearful goodbye and promised to meet her again tomorrow. Afterwards, Bellatrix headed back to her shack for a lovely hot shower and soon plopped on her sofa with a towel wrapped around her wet hair. She quickly lit one of her cigarettes and puffed a little smoke, running countless of possible scenarios through her mind: how would she continue playing her game. How would she manipulate Lucius into sending her back. How she would have to placate that insipid Lovegood-girl.

She would be going home soon. She just knew it. Bellatrix would leave this wretched world behind and rejoin her beloved Dark Lord by his side as his most favoured. As it should be.

She blew out more smoke before taking another drag. Oh, her Dark Lord would never approve of her love of this Muggle invention, but then again he wasn't here to complain about it, now was he?

* * *

This having been the first time she had traveled any substantial length of distance in this brave new world, it quickly became painfully obvious just how annoying life without teleportation magics could be. Without a floo network or a portkey hub, the wizards and witches of this world with were stuck with lengthy train rides. Case in point: to get to Malfoy manor in Wiltshire, she'd be on this particular train for about three hours and then have to go another half hour by carpet. Worst thing was actually having to wait for the train to arrive: how these wizards coped, she had no idea. Still, if the brown-haired mudblood was to be believed, Muggle trains would take even longer to make the trip from Scotland to Wiltshire.

Still, the Wizarding Railway Company provided their transportation services for free and she had managed to claim a spacious compartment all for herself. The compartment on the other side of the corridor had been claimed by the trio, who were being quite rambunctious as they were chatting and playing games. The mudblood's mutt pressed his nose against the window a few times, but at least he wasn't barking too much.

It gave Bellatrix a chance to do some reading. The book she had picked up was a concise... insofar a book with over eight-hundred pages could be concise... history of the wizarding world. She leafed through it, looking for differences and similarities. And... that was exactly what she found. Familiar names and events and unfamiliar ones. The dark witch had expected a certain clear point of divergence between the two worlds, but was unable to pinpoint one.

Another subject she looked up was the decline of pure-blood pride. Thankfully, this book devoted a whole chapter to it. It was much like Draco had told her: a group of high-profile and respected wizards released a controversial pamphlet in the late 19th century about the dangers of their low population combined with the tendency to marry within the wizarding world itself. They predicted the decline of the wizarding world, warned about the dangers of inbreeding and provided calculations as to when the wizarding world's population would become 'irreversibly unsustainable'. At the time the pamphlet was written, which was 1876, they calculated this would happen roughly around the year 2050, and they advocated the dire need for 'new blood' to bolster the wizarding world's numbers and genetic diversity within the next century.

It greatly dismayed her that one of her own ancestors... in this world at least... Phineas Nigellus Black, was one of the authors of said pamphlet. The pamphlet had made quite an impact, to a point where in a period of only twenty years support for major pure-blood supremacy interest groups had completely eroded. The fact that the student body at this world's Hogwarts easily numbered five times the size of that in her own world, told her that this apparent warning had been heeded.

Naturally, she bristled at this turn of events, as years of indoctrination tended to inspire. Her fingernails dug into the paper of the book as she seethed with rage. Still, the rational part of her mind knew that this historical pamphlet highlighted an inconvenient truth she and her fellow Death Eaters had always avoided to address: how every pure-blood family in the wizarding world was related to one another on some level and how the pool of available marriage-candidates became smaller and smaller by the year.

The rational part of her mind understood how, when faced with the possibility of extinction, the wizards of this world chose to take action and allow more muggle-borns and muggles to mix with their population. The pure-blood supremacist in her howled in anger that the wizards of this world lowered themselves right into the mud instead of at least meeting their fate in a state of dignified purity.

Speaking of mudbloods, Hermione Granger came to visit her compartment later in the trip, along with that dog of hers. The dog, thankfully, spent most of the time napping on the bench opposite to her, while she and Hermione chatted a bit to exchange some more details about their perspective worlds. A small mercy, at least, was that there was no more 'touching'. Out of the corner of her eye, Bellatrix noticed that the Lovegood-girl was glaring at her from the other compartment while the two were chatting. Best to ignore her for now.

Of course, once at the railway station, the mudblood insisted that Bellatrix ride with her on her carpet. Since she didn't actually own a flying carpet, there were very little other options to choose. Draco and Luna rode their own carpets, and Bellatrix was stuck with Hermione and the dog. The carpet itself was delightfully stable and despite her gung-ho flying during the Rugnarok game, Hermione an excellent pilot. Though the carpet _was_ unfortunately covered with shedded dog hair, the trip itself was uneventful.

Once they had arrived and passed through the familiar wrought-iron gate, the first thought that came to Bellatrix's mind was that Malfoy Manor has seen better days. Unlike the stately manor in her world, the mansion was for the most part dilapidated and in poor repair. Many of the windows were boarded up and looking at the east wing, Bellatrix could see the effects of a large fire judging by the soot still on the blackened walls. The grounds were equally dilapidated, with more care being spent on the front lawns while the glimpses she got from the back of the manor grounds were that of overgrowing weeds. Furthermore, while Malfoy Manor in her world was surrounded on all sides with acres and acres of forest, she could see muggle buildings under construction fairly near the manor house. She guessed that the Malfoys must have been selling parts of their lands fairly recently.

On the other hand, the west wing looked to be well taken care of, cozily lit and must be the main living area of the home. Attached to the home was a large adjoining building which did not exist in her world. It was relatively large, rectangular and had a large dome built into the roof. Unlike the manor, this adjoined building seemed more utilitarian in style.

"Nice!" Draco nodded in approval. "Weekend starts early."

Narcissa was already waiting for them in the main doorway to the house and beckoned them in. While they were putting away their coats and placed the rolled up carpets in their holders by the door, it occurred to her how much more welcoming the manor was. There were far more nick-knacks placed around the house, more furniture and tapestries, not to mention a few taxidermied animals and suits of armor. For a moment, Bellatrix felt as if she had stepped right into an antique shop. The lights were a lot warmer too.

Narcissa gave her son a hug and bid everyone a warm welcome, leading them deeper into the mansion. They arrived in the main living area of the house, filled with even more nick-knacks. It was as if Narcissa had moved all of the manor's displays into this one wing and the result was oddly pleasant. A roaring fire in the large fireplace neatly warmed up and lit up the room. Two lazy chairs and a small table were near the fireplace, as well as two sofa's. The living area also doubled as a dining hall, judging by the long table placed near a large bay window looking out over the yard outside.

Bellatrix heard the telltale tick of dog-nails on wood as Hermione's pet brushed past her, headed straight to the fireplace and collapsed in front of it.

"Well," said Luna. "I hope Spock won't eat the bog-roll this time around."

Before Bellatrix could respond, Lucius Malfoy appeared out of nowhere. He muttered quick hello and then started moving a beeping measurement device with glowing lights up and down the length of her body.

"Fascinating," Lucius muttered, clad in what seemed to be a long white coat and a belt with several more measuring devices attached.

"Uhm," Bellatrix muttered uncomfortably as she shifted away from him a little, only for Lucius to correct for the distance by aiming his device closer to her.

Narcissa narrowed her eyes and put her hands to her hips. Behind her, Draco and Hermione were snickering. "Lucius!" she demanded. "Do you have to do this right _now_?!"

"Cissa!" Lucius protested while continuing to bury his face in his readings. "Please, I've been waiting for weeks! If I'm lucky, the magical signatures haven't faded yet."

"Lucius," Narcissa hissed, jerking her head sharply towards the fireplace: instantly, Lucius nodded in understanding and reluctantly put away his measuring device.

It wasn't until now that Bellatrix noticed that someone was sitting in one of the chairs at the fireplace. A woman stood up, long brown hair cascading down her burgundy dress. She remained standing with her back turned to her, obviously nervous and trembling.

Andie.

It was Andie.

Though she had known this moment had been coming, she felt her resolve crumble a little.

Andromeda look a few deep breaths and slowly turned around. The moment she laid eyes upon on, Andromeda's eyes welled up as she let out a sob. She suddenly rushed forward, crossing the distance between them in record time and crushing her into a bear of a hug that put the one she'd received from Narcissa to shame.

Sobbing had turned into bawling now. The dark witch bristled, her first instinct was to push her away, until her mind kicked in.

This was her sister, yet she was not.

This was not the same Andie she knew. This was not the same Andie whom had betrayed their family and was exiled.

Bellatrix's heart skipped a beat when she realized she could love her again as family. Old feelings came rushing to the surface. Loss and betrayal, longing and doubts. Memories of the past, of their youth, came to the surface. Days of playing together in the yard, nights of telling each other scary stories, gossiping at Hogwarts, practicing spells in the park.

Bellatrix's tightly controlled facade of control crumbled like a house of cards. She simply couldn't keep her eyes from watering and in the end simply didn't want to.

"I missed you," Bellatrix muttered, her voice cracking as she tightened the embrace. "I missed you so much!"

The two sisters who were not sisters broke the embrace and stared at each other, holding each other at the forearms. Bellatrix knew that Andie always had an uncanny resemblance to her and, thankfully, life had been relatively kind to her. "You look good," said Bellatrix.

"So do you," said Andie. "When Cissy came to me last night and told me about you and... you being from another world... it just sounded bonkers to me."

"Believe me, I've been there," said Bellatrix. "I know how barmy it sounds, but it's all true."

"You said you missed me," Andie suddenly gasped. "Oh, no! Did I… die in your world?"

How to answer this question? For all intents and purposes, her own sister did die to Bellatrix. There was no further reason to elaborate and considering pure-blood supremacy was outmoded in this world, it was best not to approach the subject. Instead, Bellatrix gave her the briefest of nods.

"Oh, I'm so sorry. Trust me, I know how that feels," Andie cast her eyes downwards, tears streaking her mascara. "It should have been me who died in that fire," she whispered softly.

"Don't say that," Bellatrix shook her head as she spoke sincerely. "Your Bellatrix wouldn't have wanted that. _I_ wouldn't have wanted that."

Andie smiled. "That's kind of you to say," she shook her head. "The events of that day are... always on my mind."

"Andie," Narcissa broke in and placed a hand on the shoulder of both her sisters. "None of that, hm? We're all here. Together again, as it should be. And I have a spectacular daytrip planned. We're going to paint Swindon red when we hit the Wizarding shopping center."

Andie laughed in spite of her tears. "Shopping cures everything which ails a woman!"

Bellatrix rolled her eyes. "You are just two giant walking cliches," she chuckled.

Narcissa smiled. "Exactly what our Bella would have said."

Behind her, she could hear a cough. "Uhm, Cissa," Lucius said, holding up his device.

Narcissa sighed. "Fine! Do your measurements before we leave. The day is still young!"

* * *

As predicted, the adjoining building was in fact Lucius Malfoy's laboratory. A large open space in the middle, surrounded by two floors of parapets and a large platform near the ceiling which Bellatrix could barely see from her current position. All sorts of contraptions surrounded her, the use of which she wouldn't even hazard to guess to. Pipes went from machine to machine, as well as inordinate lengths of copper wiring. What seemed to be a flying machine was mounted from the ceiling, while there were cages with lab animals to the far side of the room and bubbling cauldrons with foul smelling concoctions near the large bay doors near the back of the lab. Most disconcerting were the tall lightning rods going up through the ceiling above. Bellatrix hoped Lucius wasn't building golems in his spare time: that never ended well.

The again, she herself was in quite a precarious situation herself. She was seated in a plain wooden chair on a platform surrounded on three sides which complicated looking measurement equipment, apparently of Lucius' own design. The Lovegood-girl was busy calibrating one of the machines, while Lucius and Draco were going over some measuring protocols. Meanwhile, the mudblood girl placed what looked to be a metal colander with lightbulbs on top of her head.

Were she not very concerned about what they were doing, she'd be more impressed with how they were basically acting like a well-oiled machine. This wasn't the first time the trio had been helping Lucius with his research: It seemed like they had been for years.

"Are you sure this is safe?" Bellatrix asked warily while the brown-haired mudblood was putting pads with wires attached to them to exposed parts of her skin.

"Quite safe," said the mudblood. "You have nothing to worry about."

"If I have nothing to worry about, then why have you tied my wrists and ankles to this chair with leather straps?" Bellatrix asked.

A kneeling Hermione, whom had just attached a cuff with thick copper wiring leading into one of the machines to her wrist and was moving to put one on her other wrist, looking up at her with a sultry smile. "Maybe I just like tying you up," she spoke softly while her hand lay on Bellatrix's knee for much longer than she would have liked. Immediately, she gently squeezed her knee. If the dark witch's ankle hadn't already been attached to the chair, she would have seriously considered kicking her in the face.

"Seriously, though," said Hermione. "The more you move, the more inaccurate the readings."

"You could have also just told me to sit still," Bellatrix challenged.

"Alright," Lucius said. "Draco, take note."

Draco took out a clipboard and quill and started writing. "Measurement test one. Subject is one Bellatrix Black, female, witch, age 46, suspected extra-dimensional traveler. Subject was most likely transported to our universe during experiment 27, attempt B. Step one, basic magical measurement. Hermione, please start the procedure."

"Righto!" Hermione called and threw a switch on one of the main machines. Immediately, a tingling sensation shot through Bellatrix's body as she felt a flow of magic surround her, moving through her from head to toe.

"Control test," Luna spoke up. "Standard measurement confirms she is a magical being of... hm, that's quite a high potential maximum magical output... 17.01 Magihertz."

"17.01?!" Draco blinked. "Whoa."

' _Of course it's high!'_ , Bellatrix thought proudly while Draco went to all the gauges to write down the readings.

"17.01?" the mudblood girl grinned at her. "That's a sign, that is!"

"Test one concluded," said Lucius. "Start test two, deep magical probe. Hermione?"

"Aye, captain!" the girl saluted and pulled on a few levers on another machine.

The magical beam was getting a bit more intense now, not to mention there was now a high pitched hum ringing through her ears. Her fingers gripped the wood of the chair.

"Test two completed," said Lucius while Draco was once again jotting down readings. "Start test three, magical particle sweep. Threshold set is twenty thousand parts per million."

Bellatrix gritted her teeth as her entire body started to vibrate uncomfortably. She was starting to understand why she'd been strapped to the chair.

"Test complete," Lucius said. "Shut down measurement equipment."

"Done!" Hermione said. The humming stopped as the machinery died down, much to Bellatrix's relief. While the mudblood was releasing Bellatrix from the chair, Luna stood transfixed to a particular gauge on one of the larger machines.

"Mr. Malfoy," said Luna. "This is extraordinary. Have a look at this."

Lucius joined the Lovegood-girl and quickly seemed equally stunned. "Has the machine been calibrated right?"

Luna nodded. "I checked it three times. What I'm looking at is impossible, but there it is."

"Well," said Lucius as he turned to Bellatrix. "If there was any doubt that you were from another universe left, we now have the proof that you are. Your magical constant measures as 1.5620."

"Is that supposed to mean something?" Bellatrix raised an eyebrow.

"The magical constant is the calculated energy density of magic," said Draco. "And it is always 1.5622 It needs to be this number for magic to work in this universe and is suspected to be the same everywhere."

"Yet," Lucius smiled. "The measurements taken from your magic is different."

"My magic works just fine," Bellatrix challenged. "Your machine must be broken."

"I don't think so," said Lucius, running his chin. "I theorize that your magic might be slowly tuning with the magic of our universe. That means that the gap between your magic's magical constant and that of our universe is closing until it is no longer there."

' _Clearly I need to get the hell out of here before that happens'_ Bellatrix thought wryly.

"I'd like to run more test over a period of a few days. See how fast the gap closes," Lucius said. "That measurement also explains why you managed to survive the trip between universes."

"Oh?" Bellatrix crossed her arms. "Why is that?"

"You were stunned. Frozen. Before you made were teleported into our universe," said Lucius.

"Of course! You were entirely encased in a spell!" the mudblood added in. "That magic acted like sort of an energy bubble which shielded you from the violent magical energies in between dimensions."

"Yes," Lucius grimaced. "Uhm, I'm afraid our last experiment was still flawed. The magical energies were too unstable. There's a reason we test with apples. I mean, for experiment 27, attempt A..."

"The apple arrived inside out," Luna bit her lips.

"And it exploded," Draco added cheerfully.

Hermione sighed. "If it wasn't for that magical stunner encompassing your entire body," she bit her lip. "You'd still have arrived in our universe. But as minced meat."

' _Right,'_ Bellatrix thought. ' _When I am back home, I'll thank the fat house-witch... right before I kill her!'_

"Can you repeat the experiment?" Bellatrix asked.

Lucius nodded. "We intend to," he said. "But we'd need to run more tests first."

"Fine," signed Bellatrix. "Strap me into the damn chair again. I have some time left before Cissy comes to fetch me."

' _If this gets me home, I'll gladly suffer the indignity'_ Bellatrix thought as a smiling mudblood started strapping her in again.

That damn girl really should stop touching her knee. Or rubbing her knee. Or giving her that stupid flirty smile.

Grin and bear it, Bellatrix told herself. Just grin and bear it. Even as the Hermione-mudblood gave her knee a slight squeeze before rubbing her leg ever so gently. It might have even be nice if it wasn't some damnable mudblood doing it.

Instead, Bellatrix tried to close her mind to it. Just a few more tests, then shopping with her sisters. Shopping with her sisters. Shopping with her sisters which wouldn't involve that rather nice, gentle rubbing. Gentle. Soft. Nice. Amazing, even through the fabric of her dress.

Sweet Merlin, that vile mudblood really _was_ good with her hands.


	7. Tomorrow is Yesterday

Bellatrix had never heard of a wizarding shopping center in Swindon. Truth been told, she'd never actually had been to Swindon nor had the need to. When Diagon Alley was a simple step through a fireplace away, why would there be any need for another wizarding shopping center elsewhere?

Of course, when travel time had to be taken into account it made sense to have multiple smaller shopping centers all over the country. This particular one, hidden in Swindon's Old Town district, certainly wasn't Diagon Alley, but it was pleasant and cozy enough and lacked Diagon Alley's constant bustle.

Cissy was a regular and knew all the good spots to go, while Andromeda hooked her arm through hers and refused to let go while chatting with her. Their first stop was a salon where Bellatrix enjoyed the simple pleasure of having her nails done. What shocked Bellatix was that a surprising amount of the shopkeepers were in fact Muggles. The girl whom had given her her manicure was one of these: a Muggle who was 'in the know' as it were. Though she had to admit that this girl was quite skilled, the idea of being in direct contact with a Muggle was rather disturbing. Almost as disturbing as the fact that Cissy and Andie didn't seem to mind this at all.

When Andie heard that Bellatrix didn't own a flying carpet, her suggested she'd buy a small one-seater at ' _Carpet Diem_ ', but for now she passed on that, preferring to save her money for some new clothing instead. Thankfully, a store with fashionable robes and dresses was right around the corner. After spending some time with in the changing rooms, she picked up a nice black dress with a lower more exposed neck-line to supplement the high-neck gray ruffled dress she had been given and a long silky cloak with an inner lining made from satin as a general accessory. She even had some room in her budget for a lady's hat. For a moment, she considered a traditional pointed hat, but eventually settled for a comfortable woman's beret, a gray one to contrast her porcelain skin and dark hair.

The three sisters spent some time window-shopping before they headed into a teashop for tea and scones. Cissy was a regular and was given a good table and after the three sisters took their seats, they were served quickly.

Bellatrix applied liberal amounts of clotted cream and jam to her scone: it'd been such a long time since she'd had one. "So, what happened to the manor?" asked Bellatrix before taking a bite. "It looked like you had a fire break out. What was the cause? One of Lucius' experiments gone wrong?"

"No," Cissy shook her head. "We haven't used that part of the manor before Draco was born. The costs of upkeep on a manor that size is staggering... with all the money Lucius spends on his experiments, we couldn't afford it. Lucius is very careful with his inventions, though. That fire was because of a lightning strike. Just an accident."

She listened to Cissy talk about her life a bit. Cissy was effectively running the household and managing the income of the Malfoy estate while Lucius focused on his inventions. Though Lucius had had some limited success, most of their income was from renting out or selling off parcels of land from the family estate. Though these days, they owned far less land than they had earlier and their income had dwindled significantly.

"You're going to end up in the poor house if you keep spending money on teleportation experiments," Andie spoke to Cissy.

Cissy shook her head. "Lucius is very close to cracking the problem."

"He's been saying for the last ten years, Cissy," Andie gave her a sympathetic look.

"I know, but Luna and Hermione have given him new perspective," said Cissy. "He's never been closer. And now that Draco's also helping out... It's just easier for him now that he can bounce his ideas off them too."

Bellatrix was no fool: though Cissy supported her husband and their family's friends in their efforts, she could see that Cissy had some doubts about the teleportation experiments ever being successful.

"What about you?" Andie asked, putting a hand over Bellatrix's. "Bella, what have you been up to?"

Bellatrix thought carefully, feeding her sister the same half-truth she had fed to the brown-haired mudblood earlier: how she'd been a soldier fighting for the future of the wizarding world, including spending some time as a 'POW'. As expected, both sisters met her story with sympathy.

"Not anymore," smiled Andie. "You don't have to fight in anyone's war anymore. You have us now!"

Bellatrix honestly didn't know how to respond to that.

"A soldier," Cissy chuckled. "Mrs. Drimple always said you needed discipline and order."

"Oh, not her!" Bellatrix groaned when she heard the name of her old next-door neighbor... the terror from her youth. "Crazy mrs. Drimple. I've never forgiven her for hexing my ball when it accidentally got knocked into her yard when I was five!"

"That horrible owl of hers used to crap all over the roof of our playhouse," Andie groaned.

"That cat of hers tried to scratch my eyes out," Cissy rolled her eyes. "I know it's an awful thing to say, but I'm glad the old bint is dead."

"Ooooh, remember when we drove her crazy by making her laundry sing and dance over the wet grass? Or the time we turned all the glass in her windows pitch black during the witching hour and she was screaming how she'd gone blind in the morning when she woke up?" Andie snickered.

"Oh, that sounds like something we'd do," Bellatrix chuckled to herself. Some things were the same in both worlds.

"Takes me back," said Cissy. "Remember when we were home for summer break during your sixth year, Bella? When we went camping in the woods and we told each other scary stories by the fire? Bella, you told that horrible story about the Witchfinder General's ghost still haunting the moors looking for witches to burn and while we were sleeping, you surprised us in the tent wearing a 17th century puritan costume and holding a torch."

"I remember! ' _I've found three pretty little witchings to BBBUUURRRRNNNN!_ '," Andie laughed. "And then we just dashed into the woods screaming with you chasing after us, Bella, and we never figured out it was you until half an hour later!"

"Yep," smirked Bellatrix. "Sounds like something I would do."

"And what about you, hm?" Bellatrix asked of Andie, deciding to change the subject.

"I own my own bakery," said Andie with more than a little bit of pride. "I make bread and pastries for the people of Hogmeade and I do quite a bit of business with Hogwarts. When the students have their weekend trips to Hogsmeade I always do so much business. I've gotten used to getting out of bed early to fire up the oven and I make enough money to live comfortably. I'm happy."

"You? A bakery?" Bellatrix frowned.

"Why not? You know I've always loved to bake," Andie smiled.

' _No you don't!_ ' she thought. ' _You were awful at it!_ '

Then, she understood. The memories they shared: They were very much _like_ the adventures they got up to in their youth, but they weren't the _same_ adventures. Just by looking and talking at them, Bellatrix could tell her sisters were very different from their counterparts in her world, but the two of them weren't even entertaining the notion that Bellatrix could be a completely different person than the sister they had known.

She supposed that was fair to a degree, as their own elder sister had been dead for decades and they were looking back at the past with rose-tinted glasses. All they could see was that their sister was miraculously back in their lives. In truth, it had pleasantly surprised her. If the situation had been reversed, she doubted she would have been as open-minded as Andie and Cissy had been towards her.

Truth be told, Bellatrix was enjoying spending time with them. Today... no, for the past few weeks, in fact, she had experienced some semblance of a normal life. She'd been lacking that for the better part of two decades and was starting to realize just how much she actually enjoyed that.

Sure, the memories her sisters shared might not be hers, but it was nice to at least pretend a little.

* * *

When the sisters had returned to the manor with their purchases, they found the living room empty with the exception of Hermione's dog still sleeping next to the roaring fire. Cissy suggested that Lucius and the trio had gone back to the lab and, of course, she was correct. The sisters found them on the top platform of the third floor, busy working on an experiment of a totally different nature.

The roof resembled the dome of an observatory and Draco was waving his wand to open the heavy steel doors, revealing the open skies beyond. On the opposite side of the heavy steel doors, situated on a reinforced platform, was a large contraption which amounted to being a giant catapult. The brown-haired mudblood was currently working on the contraption with some Muggle tools and doing some checks, apparently.

Did... did the mudblood _build_ this thing?

Bellatrix asked as much while Hermione was working. "More like modified it. Lucius managed to procure this from a medieval fair and it really worked quite well. Let's just say that through a bit of redesign, it had gotten quite a bit more bite than it used to have."

"What is this for?!" Bellatrix demanded.

Just then, Lucius appeared from a dressing room, wearing a leather jacket and a leather hat with pilot goggles. "Wizarding travel is broader than just teleportation," he said, producing a broom which appeared to have been heavily modified to increase its structural integrity with aluminium strips. "Luna and I have developed the Windcleaver charm."

"Windcleaver charm?" Bellatrix asked.

"It practically eliminates air resistance," said Lucius, as if that would explain everything.

It was Luna who broke in to fill in the gaps, "In theory," said Luna, "when the windcleaver charm is applied to a broom, it will just keep moving at launch speed for the entire duration of the trip."

"For our method of transportation," Lucius added. "We've picked the broom because it already has a measure of aerodynamics. Besides, carpets don't like being shot from a catapult… we found that out the hard way."

"He's not kidding!" Draco said. "Dad had to wear a neck brace for a month."

Andie next to her shook her head. "Honestly, after that drop, we thought Lucius had broken every bone in his body."

"It was just three," Lucius shrugged. "A small price to pay in the pursuit of progress!"

"Another point against those flying rugs," Bellatrix muttered.

Hermione picked up a clipboard and seemed to do a final safety check. "Now, the idea of what we're trying to do is to combine an applied windcleaver charm with drastically improving the launch speed."

"So that's what the catapult is for," Bellatrix said.

"Technically, this is a ballista," Hermione corrected.

Draco picked up a pair of binoculars and peered into the distance. "There is a problem, though," said Draco. "We've found out that the faster the broom goes, the less maneuverable it becomes. So our aim needs to be perfect."

"This is insane!" Bellatrix yelled in exasperation. "You're really going to shoot yourself into the air from a catapult?!"

"Ballista!" Hermione once again corrected from the other side of the device.

Luna checked some figures. "Not to worry. We've made precise calculations."

Hermione rubbed her chin. "With earlier experiments, we found out that the release of kinetic energy when fired actually shifts and displaces the entire device to it had to be re-aimed with every try. So I strengthened the arms and the supports and welded the frame to the platform. Metal fatigue is a cause for concern, but for the moment it is safe for use."

Bellatrix turned to Cissy. "You are seriously agreeing to this?"

Narcissa shot her an apologetic look. "I had my doubts at first, but this isn't the first launch and Hermione and Luna assure me it's perfectly safe. I trust them."

"Ugh," Bellatrix rubbed her temples. _'Please, please don't get yourself killed. You are free to break every bone in your body, but only AFTER you've sent me home first!'_

Both Hermione and Lucius loaded the broom into a wooden sabot and primed the ballista for firing. Lucius mounted the broom and attached the harness he was wearing to his broom with magically enforced clasps. He placed the goggles over his eyes and held on to the broom with both hands. "Draco, please take notes."

Draco nodded and started scribbling on the clipboard.

"Windcleaver broom launch, attempt seven," Lucius started. "Pilot is Lucius Malfoy, Male, weight of pilot is 72 kilograms, weight of broom is 12 kilograms for a total of 84 kilograms. Broom speedometer is primed. Force of Ballista has been increased by an estimated 34 percent. Luna, please apply Windcleaver Charm."

Luna made some arcane gestures with her wand and a red haze surrounded Lucius and his broom for a moment.

"Please clear the launch area!" Lucius called.

Andie took Bellatrix by the arm and pulled her back. "Uhm, you might want to step back, Bella."

Hermione now moved to the side of the ballista and grasped a heavy lever.

"Launch!" Lucius yelled and Hermione pulled the lever.

There was a heavy gust of wind from the air displacement as the ballista did its one job. The sound of a heavy 'twwwaaannnnggggg' filled the air as the wizard on the broom shot off like a rocket. The dark witch had to admit to being impressed by the sheer speed Lucius had taken off with. The platform the ballista stood on still reverberated from the release of kinetic energy while Draco watched his father go with binoculars. "Yes. Yes. Going fine. Still going fine... Ooooh, that was a gull."

"Problem?" Luna asked.

"Only for the gull."

Draco watched him go a bit longer. "Still going. Still going. And he's landed! Right on target, Schwarzenegger!"

"Of course," Luna nodded knowingly.

Draco gave the binoculars to Bellatrix for her to take a look. The magical gauge on the binoculars told her that she was looking over a distance of two miles, towards a field where in the middle was large haystack. Currently, there was the back-end of a broom sticking out of the haystack and a hand waving from it.

"To the carpets!" Hermione demanded and the trio reached for their rolled up carpets to fetch Lucius and his broom.

Bellatrix stared at them for a moment as they flew off, putting her hands on her sides. "I can't believe what I've just seen!"

"Hah," said Andromeda as she stood besides her. "They're certainly enthusiastic, aren't they?"

"That's not the word I'd use," Bellatrix muttered.

"Come on," said Andromeda. "Let's head back to the sitting room. It'll take them a bit to recover Lucius."

Bellatrix did so, following Andromeda down the stairs where the both of them sat down in the chairs by the fire and chatted for a bit while Andromeda stroked the fur of Hermione's dog who was still peacefully sleeping by the fire. About five minutes later, Lucius and the trio came rushing into the living room, all with broad grins on their faces.

"Ah, there you are," Andromeda greeted. "How did it go!"

"A great success!" Draco broke in.

"Indeed," said Lucius as he put down his modified broom and took off his leather hat. "The speed was constant for the entire trip, almost equal to launch speed! The Windcleaver charm, in combination with the catapult..."

"... ballista..." Hermione corrected.

"... works better than hoped," Lucius smiled.

Luna, in the meantime, was making some quick calculations on a scroll. "Applying the speedometer's measurements... just a moment... Applied to broom trip from Swindon to Manchester, which at regular top speed takes about three hours and seventeen minutes, using the windcleaver charm and the catapult..."

"Ballista!" Hermione groaned.

"... would cut the trip down to just over forty-nine minutes," Luna blinked. "That's a decrease of about seventy-five percent. Good job on modifying that cataballista, Hermione."

"OH!" Hermione almost growled. "I give up!"

"Time to celebrate, I'd say!" Draco smiled. "This might re-popularize the broom as a method of transportation."

Bellatrix shook her head. "Yes," she muttered. "As long as there's not a tree, a tower or a mountain in your path."

"Ah, we'll work out those details later," said Lucius. "One problem at a time."

At that moment, Narcissa entered the room holding a tray with a large glass decanter and glasses. "Who wants lemonade?" Cissy smiled. Apparently, inventing was thirsty work as the four discoverers rushed to the lemonade before Cissy had the chance to set the tray down. Still, Bellatrix was completely stunned: she had never known her youngest sister to serve someone lemonade ever.

The dark witch watched them banter and, in case of Luna and Hermione, bicker as they enjoyed their success and each other's company. Meanwhile Andie was pleasantly smiling and chatting with Cissy while the dog woke up from the commotion and started to sniff around the room for a bit.

This was... nice.

Such was the conclusion of Bellatrix as she watched how close this family was, even with those who weren't officially members. It reminded her of the old days, back at her own family manor when she and her own sisters were much younger. In stark contrast to this version of her family, her family back home had been become cold and distant to each other for the most part.

' _Where did we go wrong?'_ Bellatrix thought to herself and had to admit to herself that not everything in this universe was bad.

* * *

With Cissy and Andie off preparing dinner, Bellatrix went off to find the guestroom where she would be staying. She quickly found out Malfoy manor, in its current state, didn't actually have one. Instead, she was led to the topmost floor, the attic, which was the domain of the trio.

The attic was quite large and had in fact been converted into a comfortable common room. It ran the entire length of the wing and had a reasonably sized window on either side. This was the space where the trio had been spending all their summers for the past six years and it seemed like every year they had been adding to it. In the center of the room, near the stairs, was a large second-hand sofa and two lazy bean-bags set around a low table. Bookcases spilling over with all kind of books stood against the wall, while another cupboard contained boardgames of both the wizarding and muggle kind. Near the front end of the attic, underneath a gabled roof, stood what looked to be an old snooker table salvaged from a second-hand shop. To the back of the attic was an area with muggle contraptions along with another sofa, contained in part of the room which was cordoned off by a fine mesh grating on all sides.

Posters adorned the wall, ranging from wizarding bands to more muggle things Bellatrix had no idea what to think of. She wondered what a 'Babylon 5' was supposed to be. Still, it felt as if she was intruding in someone's inner sanctum: a big cultural no-no among wizards in her own world.

There were two rooms on either side of the attic, obviously small private bedrooms for the trio. One of these would be hers. When she got up the stairs, she found the trio relaxing on the sofa while Luna lay sprawled in one of the bean-bags.

"I was told there was a guest-room here?" Bellatrix asked.

"Sure," said Draco. "The one to the right next to the snooker table is yours."

Of course, Bellatrix should have guessed, as it was the only door which wasn't marked in some way. A quick inspection of the room found it small, but comfortable. There was a wash basin, a surprisingly large bed, a nightstand and a wardrobe. It was underneath a gladed roof, meaning the room was basically slanted on one side, but that wouldn't matter all that much. She had taken up her purchases and hung her cloak in the wardrobe. After laying out the nightclothing Cissy had given her on the bed, she returned to the common room to find the trio in conversation. Bellatrix decided to hang back in the room a little so she could eavesdrop.

"... at least you're not pining for some girl or other, Dreamer," said Draco. "What was your latest conquest? Was that Lavender? Or Victoria? Can't remember if I skipped one."

"Lavender," said Hermione. "And we've already broken up."

"Lavender?" Luna frowned. "But she's as dumb as a bag of rocks!"

"Hah, I wasn't exactly dating her for her brains, Luna," Hermione winked. "Come on, have you seen the way she fills out her uniform?"

"I might have stared... at some point," Draco admitted.

"Ugh!" said Luna. "I'm so not having this conversation!"

"Well, I have at least one friend I can talk to about pretty girls with, Schwarzenegger," Draco said. "Seriously, though, I'm never going to get a girlfriend if Weasley keeps spreading rumors that we're having wild sex orgies up here."

"Hah," Hermione seemed thoughtful for a moment. "Wait, isn't that a tautology? Aren't all orgies sex-related?"

"What about 'orgies of violence'?" Luna seemed thoughtful.

"Not again, Schwarzenegger," Draco hissed. "Remember the last time some weevil-bats got in here? They completely wrecked the place."

"Brrr," Hermione shuddered. "Beetles shouldn't be have bat-wings. Ever!"

"Anyway," Draco asked. "Got any new targets you are planning to pursue? Are there actually girls you haven't slept with?"

Luna raised her hand. "And I'd like to keep it that way!"

Hermione stuck out her tongue playfully. "You don't know what you're missing."

"The last girlfriend you brought up here kept both of us up for half the night," Luna said. "I know _exactly_ what I'm missing."

Bellatrix heard this and shook her head. ' _Typical low-brow mudslut behaviour.'_

"So no specific target then?" Draco asked.

"Well," Hermione grinned. "There _is_ someone I have my eye on. Not sure if she's interested yet, but I think she might be."

Bellatrix rolled her eyes. ' _Typical',_ she thought to herself. ' _It's probably another mudslut. They breed like rabbits'_

"She's not going to tell, Schwarzenegger," said Draco. "And we have some two hours to kill before dinner. What'll we do?"

"Film!" Hermione yelled.

"Exploding snap!" Luna added.

"Snooker!" Draco demanded.

A few rounds of rock, paper, scissor later and a triumphant Hermione rose from the sofa and headed to the mesh-covered part of the room. Bellatrix saw this as her cue to leave: she had lingered here and intruded on the trio's domain for too long anyway. Their backs were turned to her now and this would be a good moment to slip away. However, just before she could reach the stairs, the brown-haired mudblood called out to her. "Miss black, won't you join us?"

"Must she?" Luna muttered, glaring in Bellatrix's direction.

"Oh, don't be like that, Schwarzenegger," said Draco. "It'll be fun."

Bellatrix cursed under her breath. She could, of course, refuse, but she was still working on ingratiating herself on the trio. Spending time with them would only benefit her in the long run. So, she forced a smile and agreed.

"Oh!" said Hermione. "And leave your wand outside the cage, please."

"Why?" Bellatrix crossed her arms, eyeing Hermione warily.

"Because this is a faraday cage," Hermione said.

"And?"

"Oh, there's too much magic in the air at the manor for electricity to flow properly, especially since we're close to Lucius' lab," said Hermione. "So I constructed this faraday cage to basically block the magic out and trap the electricity inside. Getting copper wiring up here was a bit of a bear and it took me a couple of tries, but now it works fine."

Bellatrix warily sat down at the sofa which was set in front of a muggle viewing device and some other muggle contraptions. A closet filled to the brim with black cartridge-like objects stood next to it. Hermione took one of the cartridges and put it inside a machine. After which, she moved to sit down on the sofa next to Bellatrix, but Luna shot forward like a rocket and deftly parked herself between them, glaring a moment at Bellatrix while a disappointed Hermione picked up a rectangular object from the side of the sofa.

"So, what will you inflict upon us today?" Draco said.

" _The Thing_ was really good," said Luna, apparently referring the film the watched last. "More like that and less like _American Ninja,_ please _._ "

"Today I have for you _Invasion USA,_ " Hermione said.

Luna looked at her warily. "What's it about? Do I even want to know?"

Hermione didn't miss a beat. "There's a load of terrorists and then Chuck Norris comes around and kills them!"

Luna sighed heavily. "Oh my lord," she groaned.

"Hah," said Draco. "I think she just spoiled the whole film."

"Now, now," Hermione protested. "I didn't say _how_ Chuck Norris would kill them! We'll have to find out by watching."

Now, Bellatrix wasn't insipid; she knew what Muggle cinema was. The Andie of her universe had dragged her along to a few films in muggle theatres, basically as a form of rebellion against their hardcore magic-supremacist parents. Though she hadn't seen many films, she knew enough to tell the difference between a good one and a bad one. And this was a very bad one. She stopped paying attention for the most part and nodded off fairly quickly during the film's runtime. It wasn't until the loud music from the end credit scene played that she started awake.

"Well," Luna muttered. "That's two hours of my life I'm never getting back."

"I dunno," Draco said. "I liked the bit of the film where Chuck Norris punched people."

Bellatrix groaned a little and suppressed a yawn. "Hm, I think I fell asleep. What did I miss?"

"Chuck Norris punching people," said Draco.

"What the hell is a Chuck Norris?" Bellatrix muttered. "And why does it punch people?"

"Apparently," said Luna. "Because they're there."

"Should we see if dinner is ready?" Hermione asked. "I'm feeling rather hungry."

Dinner was actually quite nice. Of course, what was on the table was nowhere near the lavish banquets the Malfoy allied house-elves would prepare in her world, but rather the work of Cissy and Andie in the kitchen. It was odd to think of her two sisters actually doing cooking, but she had to admit that Cissy could prepare an excellent pot roast. Bellatrix was seated next to her sisters with the trio seated opposite to them and Lucius at the head of the table. Next to Hermione, that dog of hers was letting out a low whine as he was already begging for table-scraps.

It was Lucius who raised his glass to start off the dinner. "A toast to us all. Our broom-launch was a great success and thanks to Bellatrix we now have new avenues to pursue in our teleportation experiment. We are, once again, a step closer to revolutionize wizarding transportation!"

"Here, here!" Draco raised his glass.

"Thank you, miss Black," said Hermione, raising her glass while Luna merely glared.

After dinner followed some excellent desserts prepared by Andie, sugary treats which melted right on the tongue. Rather that just sitting in silence and dispersing to their own parts of the manor such as the dinners she was used to, everyone stayed at the table for some lively chats. Jokes were exchanged, small-talk was made and one particular conversation she had with both Lucius and Draco about the nature of inter-dimensional travel had turned downright philosophical.

She enjoyed it.

In fact, she enjoyed it a little too much for her own liking.

' _This isn't really your family'_ , she forced herself to think. No matter how much she wanted it to be. ' _This is another Bella's family. The dead Bella who's floating around Hogwarts freezing everyone's bollocks off_.'

She looked at Hermione and Luna were having some animated bickering about something called 'Area 51'. She looked at her sisters, Cissy and Andie chatting about seemingly silly things like make-up and hairstyles like they used to do when they were young.

She couldn't allow herself to like this. She couldn't allow herself to be tempted.

She _had_ to go back.

She _needed_ to go back to her own world.

Her Dark Lord was _counting_ on her!

Finally, she couldn't take it anymore. She quickly excused herself and rushed out of the dining room, though the kitchen and back door leading into the overgrowing backyard of the manor. By now, the weeds had overtaken most of it and a once proud lawn had lain untended for years. A stagnant pond, once used for koi now lay dark and spread a pungent odor. But she wasn't here to admire the yard.

Bellatrix fished a packet of camels from her purse, put a cigarette to her lips and lit it with the tip of her wand. The sweet sensation of nicotine over her lungs did much to soothe her. A few drags later and she felt quite calm. She took a peek over towards the dining room and could only see the lit windows.

Bellatrix heard the door open and, of course, the brown-haired mudblood stepped through it. Bellatrix took another drag and let out another puff.

"Ah," said Hermione. "I was hoping you went out for a smoke. Could I... maybe?"

Bellatrix sighed and opened her purse with her free hand to produce the packet of camels. "It's my last one."

"Thanks," Hermione said, putting the cigarette to her lips and let the dark witch light her cigarette with her own. The mudblood took a few drags and a blissful expression overcame her. "It's been a long day."

"Been a smoker for long?" Bellatrix asked, feigning interest.

"Since I was thirteen," shrugged Hermione. "It was more of a rebel thing back then, but now I just smoke because I like it. You?"

"Much the same," said Bellatrix. "I've been leading a stressful life for the most part."

"I'm glad you're here," said Hermione, a tiny smile dancing on her lips.

' _Here she goes again,'_ Bellatrix sighed inwardly. "Yard has seen better days," said Bellatrix, changing the subject.

"Yeah," said Hermione. "Used to be really nice when I stayed here the first few summers. "Back there you'll find the remains of a once proud carpet obstacle course. It's where I first took an interest in flying and, well, it's responsible starting off my Rugnarok career. When Lucius started to invest more into his research, the Malfoys couldn't pay the upkeep anymore. I'm just glad we're around to help him. He is so certain he can crack the problem of teleportation and I'm sure he can do it. We're so close, I can feel it."

"Sometimes believing in yourself just isn't enough," Bellatrix said. "Sometimes causes are truly lost."

"There's no such thing as a lost cause," said Hermione, her voice resolute.

"Draco's right," Bellatrix took another drag. "You really are a dreamer."

Her cigarette now worn down to a stub, Bellatrix took it from her lips and flicked it right into the pond.

"Hey," Hermione frowned. "That's not very nice."

The dark witch shrugged. "It's not as if that pond'll get any worse."

"I guess so," Hermione replied. "I'm curious. What are Lucius and Narcissa like? In your world, I mean?"

Bellatrix chuckled. That was a good question. "Lucius? Oh, he's a typical ambitious ministry drone, concerned with position, power and wealth and nothing else. Complete spineless weasel and a coward."

Hermione nodded. "That sounds nothing like the Lucius I know. It sounds like you're describing Arthur Weasley, really. What about Narcissa?"

"Consummate aristocrat. Strong willed and opinionated. Values her family. Strong pure-blood values," Bellatrix said.

"Sounds more familiar, aside from the aristocrat and pure-blood stuff," said Hermione.

"The Narcissa I know wouldn't have set foot in a kitchen if you paid her. Or brought you lemonade. Or let you and Lovegood stay at her home," said Bellatrix. "Or let Lucius build a lab on the manor grounds."

"Hm," said Hermione. "I like _our_ Narcissa better too, then. How are you holding up?"

"It's a bit... overwhelming," Bellatrix replied. It was not an untruth. But she was not about to admit to this slip of a mudblood just how much she had enjoyed herself today.

"Were you not on good terms with your family?" Hermione asked, inching ever closer to Bellatrix.

The dark witch shrugged as Hermione flicked the butt of her finished cigarette into the pond as well. "Hard to tell sometimes," Bellatrix shrugged. "I don't think I'm a very likable person and that suits me just fine."

"Why? You're not only interesting," said Hermione, Bellatrix frowning as she now was stood very close right next to her. "You're also a very, very beautiful woman."

As Bellatrix snapped her head towards Hermione, she quickly found out just how close the mudblood had gotten to her. Hermione pounced, seizing the opportunity. Before the dark witch could respond, Hermione tilted her head, closed her eyes and pressed her lips on hers.

Soft... incredibly soft lips.

The dark witch stiffened as if struck by lightning. She felt arms circle around her waist, gently embracing her. Hermione's body flowed against her like water, pressing against her as she kept kissing her. The brown-haired girl deepened the kiss, parting her lips with her tongue and started to gently probe her mouth.

Their tongues touched and Bellatrix felt herself going weak in the knees as her own magic connected with that of Hermione's on the most primal of levels. She felt her chest starting to heave, her breath quickening. This excited Hermione, causing her to let out a brief moan. She felt a hand slide over her breast, gently caressing her through the fabric of her dress. Sweet Circe... those hands.

' _You'rekissingamudbloodyou'rekissingamudbloodyou'rekissingaFILTHYMUDBLOOD!_ ' her mind screamed at her to stop. It was a loving kiss. A gentle kiss. A sensuous kiss full of passion and want. Most of all, it shocked her just how much... how much...

Finally, Hermione broke the kiss, tugging on her lower lip playfully before smiling warmly. She led a trail of butterfly kisses on Bellatrix's lips, her nose, and placed her hands on the dark witch's hips. Hermione pressed her forehead against hers and husked slightly. "I've been wanting to do that ever since that evening in the caretaker's shack," Hermione whispered. "It was better than I could have ever dreamed."

To say that Bellatrix was gobsmacked was an understatement. A torrent of emotions erupted through her mind. Mostly it was a mix of having the urge to grab the back of Hermione's hair and drown her in the pond for daring to defile a pure-blood paragon like her with her muddy paws and... a startling amount of arousal.

It was hard to deny that Hermione was a lovely young woman to look at, and for the most part lacked any of the foul personalities she was taught mudbloods were supposed to have. Bellatrix's silence and lack of refusal was seen as an invitation.

Hermione husked slightly. "I would love to spend the night with you."

Bellatrix blinked. Was she asking her to... to...

In her world, there was a term for that: 'rolling around in the mud'.

"I'll come to your room late in the night, when everyone's asleep. I'll knock three times," said Hermione, giving her a more sultry smile. "We'll have to be careful, though. The walls are a bit thin."

The dark witch was left staring. Of all the scenario's she'd played out in her head, this certainly wasn't one of them. She knew what she had to do: enough playing around, enough skulking and eavesdropping. It was time to step up and deal her best card. With a steadfast expression, she gave a surprised Hermione a slight shove and took out her wand. A few more arcane gestures later and Bellatrix apparated herself two meters backwards, just behind the pond.

It took Hermione a few moments to process this, first looking at where she was standing, where she had been standing and back again. To drive her point home, Bellatrix apprated to her original position, a stern expression on her face.

"Y-you... y-ou... telepo..." Hermione stammered. "You have to show Lucius!"

' _That's the idea'_ thought Bellatrix and didn't wait. The arcane gesture was made again and, with a crack, she appeared right next to the dining table.

All voices fell silent. Luna blinked. The glass fell out of Draco's hand, while Lucius' jaw dropped to the floor. Andie and Cissy fell silent, staring at her sudden arrival. Behind her, the door opened as Hermione came running inside. "Guys! Bella... Bellatrix just telepo..."

"SILENCE!" Bellatrix shrieked and waited as Hermione froze in her tracks.

"Right," she started. "Shut up and listen to me long and hard. In my universe, Gotthard Rimensberger's experiment was a massive success. Unlike here, he arrived in Hamburg in one piece and made himself rich and famous. Research into teleportation magics was made a priority. It became a field of study for hundreds of wizards and innovation quickly followed."

She paced slightly, wand in hand. The others, especially Lucius, were becoming more and more intrigued. "These days you can travel to any location you want from your very own fireplace, which can be linked to a network of teleportation hubs. There are portkeys, objects which can deposit you to a preset location anywhere in the world. There are portkey hubs for instant international travel. And, of course, a personal teleportation spell which you have just witnessed."

Bellatrix twirled her wand in her hand for good measure.

"In my world, Lucius, your dream is a reality," Bellatrix grinned at him, seeing his eyes light up. "Not only that, but our research in teleportation magic is nine _hundred_ years ahead of yours! Now, I realize teleportation is in its infancy here and I admit I don't know much about early teleportation magic. But I will help you develop teleportation magic in any way I can. I will let you measure my magic, study my teleportation spell, whatever it takes! It's up to you to reverse engineer the magic yourself, but I am still basically giving you teleportation magic on a silver platter. I only ask one thing of you in return."

Lucius said nothing at first, too stunned to say much of anything at first. He realized he was caught in an awkward silence. "Uhm, yes, of course!" he stammered. "Uhm, what do you want in return? A royalty contract?"

Royalties? Did he honestly think she wanted _royalties_?!

"Find me a way back _home_!" Bellatrix almost shrieked. "Dumbledore is doing bugger all and you're the only ones who can help me! I _need_ to go home!"

Lucius smiled broadly, apparently relishing the challenge. "Kids we have work to do. Ready for a good old fashioned all-nighter?!"

Relief washed over Bellatrix: it was a gamble, but her gambit had worked. Not only because Lucius and the trio were now committed to helping her, but also when she saw Hermione's face. There was pang of regret for missing out on spending a night with the dark witch, but it was overshadowed by excitement of new discovery.

Bellatrix sighed with relief: at least she was saved from a rather awkward situation.

Now, there was work to be done.


	8. Errand of Mercy

For Bellatrix, it was hard to believe it was now six weeks ago since that fateful day since she had revealed to Lucius and the trio that she was able to teleport: literally a unique magical skill in this world. The entire weekend had been spent casting apparate more times than Bellatrix could count while endless amounts of measurements were taken. It led to long nights and longer days of research, but it if would get her back home, it would be worth it.

Of course, she'd have to accept that this would not be a quick solution for her. It wasn't as if Lucius could catch up with nine-hundred years of research in one weekend and recreating traveling between universes was still considered improbable. Still, Lucius promised that he had some promising leads to pursue.

Meanwhile, life had resumed. Bellatrix and two members of the trio had to return to Hogwarts. It was a small mercy that Hermione's special curriculum allowed her take leaves of absence from the school for much longer periods than Luna and Draco could. Still, there was apparently constant streams of correspondence going on between the members of the trio at Malfoy manor and at Hogwarts, sharing calculations, design ideas and theories on magical transportation.

Thankfully, it also meant that the chance of running into Hermione at Hogwarts was at a minimal. So, Bellatrix picked up the job she'd been hired for, going through the motions, fulfilled her service-requests and laid low, confident in the fact that she would be going home soon. Filled with hope.

These were the last few days of the school year. Soon, Hogwarts would go into lockdown for summer recess and she'd go back to Malfoy manor to help out Lucius and the trio. She'd no idea how she'd deal with sharing a home with Hermione, but she'd cross that bridge when she'd get to it. For now she focused on the job of getting the castle secured and ready for recess.

Bellatrix was just going over the list of classrooms, seeing which were not booked to be used again this week so she could already close them off and spread out her workload a little. She had just locked off both duelling classrooms when she heard some shouting coming from a nearby corridor. The voice sounded like an adult's and not one she recognized. Rounding around the corner, she saw Arthur Weasley standing in the distance, apparently berating his son for something or other. The dark witch hung back a little and let the man rage. Watching it hit a little bit close to home. Her father could rage like that, whenever she or one of her sisters fell out of line. Later he would say that he was trying to protect them from the dangers of a seductive impure world.

When Arthur Weasley apparently had had enough, he stomped off in the direction of Dumbledore's office. The dark witch narrowed her eyes and approached the boy. "If you don't stand up to your father, he'll lord over you your entire life," she spoke as she passed.

The boy was obviously fighting back tears. "W-what do you care?"

"Suit yourself," Bellatrix shrugged. "Let's just say I speak from personal experience."

"What can I even do?" the Weasley boy cast his gaze downward.

"Maybe he'll berate you," said Bellatrix. "Maybe he'll hex you or even attack you. But whatever happens, you'll still have your pride."

The boy seemed to contemplate this and gave her a brief, grateful nod. Bellatrix returned the nod and continued making her rounds. After locking up a few more unbooked classes, she took a look at her clipboard and found the final service-request of the day. Only a name was written down, not the request itself. She made her way to the dorms, hoping she could resolve whatever she would find quickly so she could finally knock off for the evening: she was already doing overtime.

The service-request belonged to nobody less than Maisie Snape. She knocked on the door and found the dorm-room to be much like a little girl's bedroom: blinding shades of pick, several plushie unicorns and what looked to be a princess-style canopy bed. The little red-headed girl sat on her chair, looking unsure of herself.

"Ah, miss Snape," Bellatrix greeted. "You put in a request, but you didn't mention what it is you wish me to do."

"I, uhm..." the girl stammered. "I..."

Immediately, Bellatrix got a good idea what was going on here. Sometimes students put in a service-request because they just wanted to talk. They could be lonely, homesick or have some other kind of problem. Merlin knows why they thought she would be the right person to have a conversation, though she supposed she had built up a reputation of being painfully honest. Often enough, Bellatrix would indulge them. Sometimes she would not. She had gathered quite a good deal of information and gossip this way, so she usually did.

"It's about my dad," she said, looking up.

Ah, yes, today Bellatrix would indulge her.

"Snape?" Bellatrix crossed her arms. "What did he do this time?"

"We used to have so much fun back in our home in Hogmeade," Maisie sniffed. "He used to play with me and read me stories and teach me spells and we'd go for walks and he'd tell me which flowers could be used for potions."

The girl looked up with big green eyes. "But here he doesn't. And he doesn't even want me to call him dad. I'm worried my dad doesn't love me anymore and I don't know what I did wrong."

The dark witch heard the little witchling's voice crack and started rubbing her temples. "Oh, for the love of... bloody idiot!"

The girl seemed stricken when Bellatrix held out her hand expectingly. When Maisie didn't take it immediately, the dark witch let out a heavy sigh. "Come with me," she said, and Maisie finally took the hand.

"Keep up!" Bellatrix demanded as she left the dorms and headed straight to Snape's office with Maisie in tow. The girl had some trouble keeping up with Bellatrix's determined strides, but at least the office wasn't far. She didn't bother knocking and stepped right in, finding a frowning Snape writing on a scroll at his desk.

"Hey. Idiot!" Bellatrix spat in his general direction.

"I beg your pardon!" Snape narrowed his eyes, but then frowned again when he saw Maisie.

Bellatrix ignored him and turned to Maisie. "Tell him what you told me."

Her eyes watery again, the red-haired little girl looked up at her father. "I'm worried that you don't love me anymore," she sniffed. "I don't know what I did wrong. Please tell me what I did wrong!"

An expression of absolute horror crossed Snape's features. Whatever he was doing was forgotten as he rushed from his desk and scooped up his girl to take her in a firm embrace. Without saying a further word, he walked off with her into the corridor. Maisie looked over her father's shoulder at Bellatrix, eyes watery with tears of joy now. The little girl gave her a brief wave right before they rounded about the corner.

Satisfied with her work, Bellatrix put her hands to her hips. "Ah, another satisfied customer," she told no one in particular. And now it was finally time to knock off after a very long day. After dropping off the tools of her trade at the shack, she made the brusque walk to Hogsmeade. A was usual for her, she chose the Hog's Head over the more popular pub in the high street since she found this inn to be quieter and the food better. Bellatrix found the darkest and quietest corner of the inn, claimed her table and ordered her dinner. She spent a few moments after dinner simply relaxing and enjoying a craft ale or two while calmly reading through some books the pub had on the shelf for common use.

By the time she left the pub, it was already dark outside and Bellatrix felt the urge to have some nicotine in her lungs. A cigarette was quickly lit and she made her way back to the high street. In the past few weeks, there'd been far more trips with her sisters and Andie living so close also meant plenty of visits to her little home in Hogsmeade. In fact, that would be her next stop: Andie's bakery and home was at the very end of the high street, near the edge of town.

' _Andromeda's Bread Box_ ', read the sign above her storefront window. As Andromeda lived on the second floor of the building, she made her way to the side of the building gave the doorknocker a few good swings. A shift in the light coming from the other side of tinted glass signified Andie was coming down the stairs. Bellatrix took a last deep drag and pressed her cigarette out on the brickwork of the house and, finding nowhere to discard the cigarette stub, she simply pocketed it instead.

"Bella!" greeted Andie as she opened the door. Her sister quickly let her eyes rove over the edge of the woods and let out a relieved sigh. "Come in, please. Glad you made it safely."

The dark witch frowned as she followed her sister up the stairs. "Are you expecting some sort of trouble?" she asked as Andie's led her into the small living room above the front of her shop. Andie's little home was nice and her sister was a kind and welcoming soul. They sat down at the round table in front of the bay windows and Andie quickly poured the both of them a cup of tea.

"Oh, it's just that old banshee that lives on the edges of the Forbidden Forest. She's been spotted near the town," said Andie as she went to fetch some crumpets from her kitchen. "Apparently, she's been lurking as close as the picnic grounds."

Bellatrix frowned. "Old Shrieking Sarah?" she said. "This close to town? That old spirit is becoming a real problem."

"Not sure what changed," said Andie as she put down her crumpets. Bellatrix quickly took a bite and let the sugary taste overcome her: Andie's crumpets were absolutely spectacular. "Never gotten this close to civilization for the last three-hundred years if Rosmerta is to be believed."

Bellatrix grumbled a little. "Dumbledore won't take me seriously when I tell him that Old Shrieking Sarah is a threat. He won't do a damn thing until one of the students is going to be literally screamed to death! It's almost as if he _wants_ another scandal."

"Why doesn't he think Old Shrieking Sarah is dangerous?" Andie asked,

"Oh, he knows she's dangerous," Bellatrix replied. "He's just not convinced she'll ever go near Hogwarts grounds, so it's not his problem. He just doesn't know what the students are like. I've been warning them not to break curfew and sneak off school grounds after dark out the castle for a quick smoke and a quicker shag. Caught two kids in the act yesterday in the cloakroom. Sweet Merlin, they're like rabbits. But one of these days, a quick shag is going to end up as a quick death!"

"You _do_ care about the students," Andie gave her that annoying knowing smile of hers.

"Don't be daft," Bellatrix rolled her eyes. "It's the negligence and incompetence that gets to me. And the fact that someone potentially has to die before everyone suddenly realizes that banshees just might be _just a little bit_ dangerous _!_ And I'll be there on the sidelines telling them 'no shit? Really?!'."

"Speaking of dangerous," said Andie. "I noticed the smell of smoke on you when I let you in. You know that's bad for you, right?"

The dark witch sighed. "Not again, Andie. If it gets really bad, I can just have my lungs scourgified. Besides, spending more than a decade in Az… a POW camp was bad for me too. Allow me my indulgences."

"Right, I'm sorry I brought it up," said Andie.

Bellatrix watched her sister's mood fall a little, a sign of a struggle within her. The dark witch knew what was coming.

Andie lay her hands on her sister's and looked her in the eye. "Do you really have to leave? Why do you want to go back to a world where they imprisoned you?"

"Andie… you know I don't belong here."

"Why not? We'd all love it if you were to stay," said Andie.

"We've been over this before…" said Bellatrix, her voice lowered a bit.

"Yes, yes. You're fighting in a war that's not yet been won. I've heard it all," Andie bit her lip slightly. "I just… think it'd be nice to have the family back together."

Again, Bellatrix had to remind herself that the Andromeda sitting in front of her was not her sister. Not really. No matter how much she wanted her to be her sister, wishing for it wouldn't make it a reality.

A sly smile tugged on Andromeda's lips. "Hermione really likes you, you know?"

' _Not this again!'_ Bellatrix glowered. Andromeda was seemingly the only one of her family whom had caught on to Hermione's romantic interest in her and had been teasing her to no end. "She's one of the reasons I want to leave! Besides, I'm old enough to be her mother."

"Isn't that flattering, though? She's funny and smart and, well, a lot like you, really," Andie said. Unfortunately, she had spoken those words just as Bellatrix had taken a big slip from her tea.

Instantly, the dark witch was coughing and pounding her chest with the flat of her hand as the tea had promptly gone down the wrong way. "She..." Bellatrix managed between coughs. "She is NOTHING like me! Don't be ridiculous."

"It's true! She's strong in her convictions, talented, dedicated and fiercely loyal to her friends," said Andie. "Sounds familiar?"

"No!" Bellatrix lied.

"It's a real shame she doesn't have any family of her own, but it's nice to think Cissy had sort of adopted her in a sense," said Andie. "Luna too."

"The Cissy of this world certainly has a tendency to pick up strays," Bellatrix muttered. "Besides, I could ask you the same question. Why did you never marry, Andie? You have a lot of offer, you carry the Black family name and you have a successful business."

Andie shook her head. "I was an emotional wreck for years after you... our Bella... died in the fire," said Andromeda, her voice low. "Deep in my heart I know you... our Bella... wouldn't want me to mope around and enjoy my life, but it took me a long time to come to terms with it. I don't think I'll ever be able to fully move on. Seriously, who wants to date or even marry an emotional wreck?"

"I don't think you're a wreck," Bellatrix replied. "In fact, I believe you're far more stable than I am."

"That's kind of you to say," replied Andie. "Perhaps Hermione could..."

"Ugh! Look, let's just drop this, Andie. We both have to get up early tomorrow."

They chatted for a bit more, before parting with an embrace. Bellatrix made the trek back to Hogwarts in the dark, keeping both an eye out for signs of the old banshee and students trying to get away from the castle. Thankfully, she found neither and retired to her caretaker's shack for the night.

She spent half an hour relaxing on the sofa of a very nice home she had been enjoying quite a lot the past weeks. Though she was relatively busy now at the end of the school year, the past few weeks she'd kept her backlog under control and the job was smooth sailing. It was a good feeling not to have to be on the run, not to have to look over her shoulder all the time for that dagger in the dark and being able to go out in public as much as she wanted.

The last weeks have been amazingly quiet and charmingly predicable. In fact, she regarded it as a vacation of a sort: the first one she'd had in decades.

After a nice hot shower, she crawled into bed for some much deserved and needed sleep.

But instead found herself staring at the ceiling.

That mudblood.

That fucking mudblood!

Truth be told, their kiss had been on her mind for quite some time. Though she tried to push it away, it was like a worm burying through an apple and always came to the surface.

She was deeply conflicted her and she hated Hermione for it. Such a filthy inferior, presumptuous creature! How dare she kiss her? How dare she?!

But she could honestly say she had never been kissed like that before. It was soft, loving, full of passion and longing. To think back to those soft, inviting lips. That throaty voice of hers.

Those soulful brown eyes. And how they looked at her.

It was how she imagined a kiss from her beloved Dark Lord would feel like in her darkest imaginations. Immediately, she grabbed the duvet and threw herself on her side, furious with herself for even having the gall to put her beloved Dark Lord and that filthy, filthy mudblood girl on the same level.

Still...

The sheer tenderness of that kiss.

Though she tried to bury it underneath old hatred, though she tried to rationalize it away, though she tried to deny it vehemently, deep down in the core of her being, she longed to see Hermione again.

"WHAT _IS_ THIS?!" she shouted into the darkness of her shack, once again, throwing herself on her side. Her other side this time.

Why was this horrible, horrible world poisoning her mind so?!

Sleep did not come easy that night. As it had not came easy many, many nights before.

* * *

Bellatrix suppressed a yawn as she sat on the side of an examination table of the Hogwarts. Today was the last day at school. In general, the students were in a good mood and were preparing to go home for the summer. For Bellatrix, however, today would be one of the busiest days of the year and she was completely on her own to put the school in lock-down for the summer. The only people whom would remain for the summer were Thomas Riddle and Rubeus Hagrid, and they didn't exactly needed much space. Lily Snape would handle closing down the infirmary by herself so there was at least one task she wouldn't have to do.

For the past couple of weeks, an odd friendship had started to form between her and Lily. Sure, they had never been even close to being friends in her world, but Bellatrix had to admit that Lily had her health and best interest at heart. She had come to see Lily for an examination before work today, possibly the last chance she'd get before the Snapes would leave for their holiday cabin in Norway.

"You're much healthier," Lily nodded in approval. "Your weight is balanced and I daresay there's a lot more color to your skin."

"I do feel much better," Bellatrix admitted. That was understatement. In the past couple of weeks, the improvement to her overall health was nothing short of amazing. Aside from feeling better, she had regained much of her former beauty: her long hair had gained more body, her face was far less gaunt and sunken, her eyes had gained more life and her skin felt much softer. She felt and looked years younger.

Who knew that not being constantly on the run could do so much good for a woman?

"Let me give me an assignment for the summer," she said, giving Bellatrix her altered diet plan. "Keep up your protein intake and there's some room for sugary delights. Everything in moderation, though. No more than _one_ of Andie's pastries a day. _Two_ on a Sunday."

"I'll keep it in mind," replied Bellatrix as she went over the list of preferred foods. She certainly didn't mind the variety of fruits, chicken and steak, but missing out on Andie's delicious pastries too much didn't really sound appealing.

"Oh, before I forget, take this," Lily said, handing Bellatrix a business card. The dark witch turned it over and saw it had an address located in a muggle town called 'Fort William' on the other side of Scotland. "What's this? Dr. Terrance MacDiarmid. Psychotherapist?"

"That's a muggle friend of mine, specializes in therapy for soldiers suffering from PTSD," said Lily.

"PTSD?"

"Post traumatic stress disorder," said Lily. "You show quite a few of the signs, Bella. I can tell you haven't been sleeping well as of late."

Bellatrix muttered. "You want me to see... a muggle mind-doctor?"

"Oh, don't be so old-fashioned!" Lily admonished. "Terrance is in the know about the wizarding world. He could really help you. He's got an amazing success rate with former POW's."

Bellatrix put the card to one side. "I doubt he knows how to deal with witches who've had dementors as pr... camp guards."

Lily spun on her heels and looked at her with shock and horror. Of course, Bellatrix had fed her the same half-truth about her being a soldier and a captive like she had all the others, but she had been sparse on the details. "They... they used dementors?! That's monstrous! You were exposed to dementors for years?!" Lily blinked, horror etched on her face.

Bellatrix gave her a brief nod.

"Jesus Christ," Lily hissed through clenched teeth. "If the people you were fighting in your world were willing to use dementors in such a manner, they must be evil to the very core!"

"I prefer not to think about that time," Bellatrix grimaced.

Lily sat down next to her. "Well, mental health is just as important as physical health. Magic can heal broken bones, but it won't do much for a broken mind. Not to imply that your mind is broken, of course, but it's something you might want to keep an eye on. And, who knows, maybe if you get proper treatment, you can finally quit smoking."

Bellatrix looked up at her.

"I saw you taking a cigarette break on the jetty yesterday," Lily pressed.

Bellatrix rolled her eyes. "If it becomes too much of a problem..."

"... yeah, no," Lily shook her head. "Scourgifying your lungs won't undo the damage you do to your body. God, the misinformation about magic healing that's out there is just frustrating. I've also noticed you've been smoking far more often than before. Been visiting miss Parkinson to pick up more packs, have you?"

Time to put her foot down. "For the last time, Lily, I'm not going to quit smo… wait, you know about Parkinson's black market dealings?"

Lily hopped off the table and chuckled as she gathered a few instruments in a doctor's bag to get ready for the lock-down. "Of course I do," she cheerfully announced.

"And you haven't told Snape? He's been trying to find this so-called 'black market hooligan' for months!"

Lilt turned to her with a grin. "Years."

"You're serious," Bellatrix raised an eyebrow.

"Nobody wants to admit it, but Pansy fulfills a dire need in this school," Lily said while gathering more items. "There's very little attention to sexual education and some of the wares she sells do a lot to prevent teenage pregnancies and the spread of venereal diseases. I've told her that as long as she keeps the prices she charges for the contraceptives fair, I won't turn her in and I'll keep my husband off her trail. Her little sister is set to take over the business when Pansy graduates next year. That'll give me some more time to lobby for proper sexual education courses. Might even teach them myself."

"Hah!" Bellatrix laughed, nodding in approval. "You are a lot more devious than I gave you credit for. You sure you shouldn't have been sorted in Slytherin instead?"

Lily smiled. "Oh, Bella, you still have so much to learn about the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry's political structure."

"Clearly," Bellatrix rolled her eyes. "Anything that could help getting more attention to a roving banshee?"

Lily stopped in her tracks a moment and turned around, shooting Bellatrix a warm smile. "Thank you for helping Maisie, by the way. I don't know what you said to him, but Severus spent the entire evening with her."

Bellatrix shrugged. "It was Maisie who did most of the work herself."

"Nothing was wrong until a few months ago. Severus was worried that Maisie would get treated badly by the other students if it seemed she was getting preferential treatment. Teacher's daughter and all that. So he decided to be more strict and professional. But, as Severus does, he completely overdid it. And, of course, he never listened to me when I told him he was making it worse. We'll be going on holiday soon. That'll help. I owe you one."

The dark witch shook her head. "You owe me nothing. The simply joy of seeing the horror spread over his face was reward enough."

That made Lily laugh. "Saw Ronald Weasley last evening, yelling at this father. Oh, it was a sight to behold."

"Oh, did he now? About time he grew a spine."

"He did that and more!" Lily laughed. "Seriously, for a moment, I thought the boy would punch his father's lights out. I've never seen Arthur Weasley that stunned. He was yelling at him to start being a father, stop being so mean to him and his brothers and to stop treating their mother like dirt. I wouldn't be surprised if Molly Weasley drops by at some point to give you a big hug to thank you."

Bellatrix sighed and rolled her eyes at the image of that fat house-witch bullrushing her. "Great, that's all I need."

"Seriously, Bella, you're having a positive influence on a lot of people since you started working here," said Lily.

"That's a first..." Bellatrix rolled her eyes.

"It's true! In case you haven't noticed, the students respect you," said Lily. "The younger ones think you're cool and the older ones think you're genuine. If you're worried about Old Shrieking Sarah, just warn the students yourself. They'll listen to you!"

"Hm-hmm," Bellatrix rolled her eyes. "They'll listen to the PTSD-ridden old witch who has to see a muggle mind-doctor."

A twinkle came in Lily's eyes. "If you don't want to talk to Terry, you can always talk to Hermione. I bet she'd be willing to listen."

The dark witch closed her eyes in frustration and let out a deep sigh. "Merlin, not you too? Is there anyone who _doesn't_ know that Hermione has a romantic interest in me?"

"Why not?" Lily pressed.

"Have you been talking to Andromeda?"

"I might have," Lily winked, eliciting another groan. "Hermione'll turn twenty in September and if you're worried about a conflict of interest, well, let's just say you're not the first staff member who got involved with a student. You do realize she's head over heels with you, right?"

Bellatrix narrowed her eyes. "There are entirely too many matchmakers ion this place."

"Hah," Lily chuckled as she patted Bellatrix on the leg. "We mean well, Bella."

"That's the worst of it," Bellatrix muttered under her breath as she hopped off the examination table. It was time to get to work.


	9. The Savage Curtain

As it turned out, Bellatrix needed a full two days to get the school fully in lock-down, even with all the work she had done beforehand factored in. Too exhausted to make it to Malfoy manor Saturday afternoon, she elected to spend another night at home before making the trip on Sunday morning instead.

The train-ride was uneventful and she embraced Cissy when she came to pick her up from the railway station. It didn't take long for them to make it to the manor. By now, Luna and Draco had already arrived and were hard at work in the lab, along with Lucius. When Bellatrix stepped into the lab, Luna and Draco were in a bustle as they were working some magical machinery which had numerous copper wires running towards... and odd contraption on a dais in the middle of the lab.

The contraption was a large metal oval, made from pipes held together by a lattice. It stood some six foot tall and was held up by wooden supports, while the copper wiring was wound around the outer ring from top to bottom. Apparently, the contraption was still being worked on.

Her heart skipped a beat when she realized that Hermione was here as well. Clad in blue coveralls leaving her arms bare, thick gloves and a face-covering metal mask and working with some sort of tube-like contraption which placed some sort of bright blinding light into the metal structure. Truth be told, she only recognized her because her brown hair was exposed, tied back and rolled up into the back of her cover-all.

"Hello auntie!" Draco greeted while Luna glared. "Oh, be careful not to look into the light while Dreamer is welding. That's very bad for your eyes."

"Ah, there you are," Lucius added as he joined his son. "We've been hard at work, Hermione especially. The contraption you're looking at is her creation. She's been trying to get it done before your arrival and just connecting the last piece. Oh, this is going to be so exciting! We're doing pioneering work here!"

By now, the mudblood put the finishing touch on her 'welding', whatever that might be, and lifted the mask from her face. She turned to them and the moment she saw Bellatrix, a warm smile crossed her face. She put down her tool and stepped to her.

"Hi," she muttered, slightly awkward. For the first time, Bellatrix took full notice of Hermione's bare arms. The toned arms of an athlete having done years of Rugnarok... it briefly made her wonder what her bare legs would look like... And her stomach...

"Hello," Bellatrix spoke, surprised by the soft tone she had spoken with.

"It's so good to see you again. As you can see, we've been hard at work," said Hermione. "Will you be staying at the mansion?"

Before Bellatrix could answer, she stepped a little closer and touched her arm. "Please tell me you've brought cigarettes," Hermione looked at her with pleading eyes. Bellatrix said nothing, but opened her small handbag and let her peek inside to see a few packets of camels: her stash for the coming weeks.

"Oh, bless you!" Hermione smiled warmly.

Soulful, brown eyes.

Bellatrix had to look away.

"Is this the thing that'll send me home?" Bellatrix asked as she regarded the ring.

"Not exactly. Not yet at least. At the moment, it's more of a proof of concept," said Lucius, adjusting the contraption on his forehead.

"Oh?" Bellatrix rubbed her chin. "And what are you trying to prove?"

"You see," Luna broke in. "We went over the readings we took from you over and over again and there were some things we just couldn't make sense of at first."

"It was then that our Hermione here had an epiphany," said Lucius.

Hermione shifted nervously as she started to step out of her coveralls. "I wouldn't go quite that far."

"Don't be modest, Dreamer," Draco winked.

"You see," said Lucius. "I think Hermione's intitial theory that the apple we were trying to transport during our experiment at Hogwarts ended up in your universe is correct. You are still connected to it across universes through a magical tether."

"Amazing, isn't it?" said Draco. "We think that as long as this tether exists, we can find a way to bring you home."

"Do we even have time to do this?" Bellatrix said, somewhat worried. "Last time I looked, an apple is a perishable good. What if it rots away or if someone eats it?"

Luna shook her head. "It doesn't matter what state the apple's in. Its molecules would still exists and would still have the same phase-signature to tether you. There's no reason to believe that the tether is fading either. Think of it as a form of quantum entanglement. Because you and the apple crossed each other in our magical experiment, the molecules of your body and that of the apple have entered a magical quantum state. Even though you and the apple are spatially separated... between universes even... the particles you and the apple are made off now share opposite physical characteristics."

"What?" Bellatrix blinked.

"Just smile and nod," Draco chuckled, earning him a glare from Luna.

"Lovely," Bellatrix crossed her arms. "I'm just thinking how wonderful it is to be potentially tethered to someone's digestive system."

Luna offered a rather mysterious smile. "The only way to really break this tether is to shred the atoms magically through a disintegration spell. Either the apple... or you," said Luna, her smile turning a bit more sinister: it was rather obvious which one of the two Luna preferred to be magically shredded.

"This machine, this construction," said Lucius. "Has been built to be able to follow that tether and actually take a peek into your universe. Think of it as a deeply magical, inter-dimensional pensieve."

"We're basically going to make an infinitely small Einstein-Rosen bridge," said Luna. "Not big enough to send you back, not by a long shot, but it will prove our theory and let us know we're on the right track."

"A wormhole!" Hermione raved, seemingly over the moon. "We're going to be making an honest-to-goodness wormhole! Right in this lab! How exciting is that?!"

"Yeah," Draco chuckled. "How about we finish calibrating this thing before Dreamer explodes from the excitement?"

Honestly, Bellatrix regarded the machine and had no idea what to think right now. Of course, the trio and Lucius were excited and she supposed that was to be expected. Real progress had been made in finding her a way back home and that was gratifying enough. It was certainly more than Dumbledore had ever done.

Deciding that the best way to wait for the trio to finish their calibrations was to go outside to the backyard for a smoke. She stood in the same spot she had been stood almost two months ago, taking a drag from her cigarette. As predicted, the door to the kitchen opened and out popped the mudblood.

That was to be expected. She stood next to her, looking at the gray and quickly darkening sky above. Apparently the first day of summer looked to be a really, really bad one weather wise. Bellatrix said nothing, merely holding out a fresh cigarette for the mudblood to take.

"Thanks," the mudblood smiled as, this time, she produced a muggle lighter from her pocket and lit it herself. A look of bliss overcame her as she took her first drag.

"Haven't you got your own?" Bellatrix asked matter-of-factly.

Hermione shook her head. "Narcissa doesn't like cigarettes in the house. Lit or unlit. So don't tell her about your stash."

"Ugh," Bellatrix rolled her eyes. "Why does everyone have it in for smokers all of a sudden?"

"I don't know!" Hermione nodded in agreement before taking another drag. "But it's really annoying! It's my own body, I can do whatever I want with it."

"Well said," Bellatrix agreed.

"I missed talking to you," smiled Hermione. "I missed you in general."

Bellatrix didn't respond except for taking another puff.

"I... I can't stop thinking about... you know... the last time we were here," Hermione whispered.

The dark witch closed her eyes. Of course she _would_ bring that up.

"You've been thinking about me too, haven't you?" Hermione followed up with a sultry tone of voice.

' _I've been trying not to!'_ Bellatrix screamed inwardly, but before she had a chance to respond verbally, the clouds above their heads burst and poured down their heavy load. A veritable curtain of rain came pouring down as the backyard was lit by flashes of lightning overheard. The two women quickly searched for shelter and found it underneath a small awning near the pond. They had made it before they had gotten _too_ wet from the rain and, miraculously, their cigarettes were still lit.

The smell of the smoke mixed with the smell of the rain as the water continued to come down in bucket-loads. There was something really peaceful about listening to a rainstorm, Bellatrix found. She finished her cigarette in silence and, with almost perfect timing, she and Hermione flicked their cigarette stubs into the pond.

It was at this point that Bellatrix noticed that she and Hermione were a bit... crowded and cozy underneath this awning. The smell of Hermione's hair... pineapple scented shampoo... tickled her nostrils. She looked at her...

Soulful brown eyes.

Those eyes.

"Are you alright?" Hermione asked. "You seem awfully quiet."

' _Why not'_ Bellatrix thought to herself, the temptation now becoming nearly impossible to resist. ' _Why can't I simply... enjoy her? I'm going home anyway. I'll never see her again. Who's ever going to know? I won't be the first pure-blood who's been playing around in the mud and I won't be the last. There's no chance of a pregnancy and we'll both take what we want from it. So... why not? Why not?!'_

While Bellatrix was rationalizing, Hermione gently lay a hand her cheek. She smiled and leaned in, but this time the dark witch was prepared. Their lips met as Bellatrix wrapped her arms around Hermione's waist, pressing her against her. Their chests pressed together as the kiss deepened instantly. Tongues fighting for dominance, hungry for conquest. She felt Hermione's hand rake through her hair, finding the back of her head and forcing her closer, her other hand on her hip.

It was Hermione who broke the kiss, but she was far from done. While still treating the dark witch to butterfly kisses on the lips, she took Bellatrix's hand and guided it to her breast. Bellatrix could take a hint and gently kneaded an impossibly soft breast through the fabric of her shirt. Hermione's breath quickened as Bellatrix worked her magic. Hermione took faster and deeper inhales, developing into a soft moan. It was hard to deny her own arousal as her loins were on fire. In fact, she almost lost it when Hermione latched onto the side of her neck and gently bit down on her skin. If that girl kept this up, she would throw her down into the mud and have her right on the spot.

"Hello?!" sounded the voice of Draco coming from the kitchen door. In response, she and Hermione hastily composed themselves, pretending as if nothing had happened. "Are you two out here? We're done calibrating so when you're done smoking you can come inside!"

The sound of the door closing followed and it was clear that Draco had not seen them. The two of them looked at each other and shared a brief laugh. Hermione then hastily lay her hand on Bellatrix's cheek again. "Tonight. Your room. Three knocks," she husked and then turned around and made a dash for the kitchen door through the torrents of rain.

"Three knocks," Bellatrix whispered to herself, only now noticing that her heart was pounding in her chest like a jackhammer.

* * *

"Just stand on the pad here?" Bellatrix asked when Lucius guided her to a meter squared rectangular pad attached to the ring-like object with more copper wiring.

"Yes," said Lucius. "Your magical signature is needed for the connection to be made. A magical barrier will prevent you from stepping off when the machine is running, because, well, we don't know what will happen if you step off and break the connection unexpectedly. Could be nothing happens. Could be the machine goes super-critical and blows up the entire manor."

"That's comforting to know," Bellatrix muttered.

Lucius shrugged apologetically. "This is completely unknown territory. What we're attempting to do is something that has never been done on this planet before."

"So exciting!" spoke Hermione. "It's like... looking through a black hole to see what's on the other side!"

Behind her, Luna groaned. "Hermione, we've gone over this before! There is no other side to a black hole! A black hole is not a hole, it's an _object_!"

"Easy, Schwarzenegger," Draco put a hand on her shoulder. "We're all excited."

Luna grumbled and took her station at one of the machines.

"Right, let's get this show on the road," said Lucius. "Bellatrix, would you step on the pad, please?"

Bellatrix did so, feeling more anxious than she supposed she should. Would this even work? As soon as she stepped on the pad, the trio and Lucius started to get to work.

"Right," Lucius said. "Inter-dimensional pensieve test 1, attempt 1. Subject is inter-dimensional traveler, female, 46. Attempting to contact her home universe. Luna, activate barrier."

"Done," said Luna as a magical field surrounded Bellatrix. The machines started to whir ominously as the build-up of magical power increased.

"Luna, what's the magical resonance flow count?" Lucius asked.

"3.6. Not great, not terrible," Luna replied.

"Are you sure it's not higher?" Draco asked.

"Don't be delusional, Draco."

Before any bickering could ensue, Hermione called out that the machines were charged up and ready for activation.

"This is it, people!" Lucius announced. "Release capacitor charge!"

Hermione took hold of a massive lever and pulled it down slowly. As soon as it make contact with the breaker, a magical charge lit up the copper wiring and caused the metal ring to glow a bluish hue. The air around it crackled with power. The moment the charge hit the pad, Bellatrix felt as if she'd been punched in the stomach by Fenrir Greyback. The power surged through her, almost forcing her to her knees. But Bellatrix was a proud woman and would not allow this. She grimaced through the pain and stood her ground, raising her chin imperiously and defiantly as the magic flew into her through the pad and shot forward into the eye of the ring in front of her. The flow of magic stabilized after the initial burst and was, thankfully, made more bearable.

The machine was working.

An blurry image was forming in the eye of the ring.

"Oh, wow," said Hermione as she rushed to the ring. Draco and Lucius did so to.

"Amazing," said Lucius. "We are actually seeing another universe."

" _Many such journeys are possible,_ " Hermione whispered in awe. " _Let me be your Gateway."_

"See if you can clear up the image, Luna," Lucius said. "Decrease particle flow by .2 percent."

The image blurred even more. "Wrong direction it seems," said Lucius. "Increase particle flow by .4 percent."

The image cleared up substantially. "Further .1 percent increase," Lucius said. "Perfect."

The trio and Lucius crowed in front of the machine, which annoyed Bellatrix since they were essentially blocking her view. After a few snappy words, they parted a little, allowing the dark witch to see as well.

On the image was what looked to be an empty hall. Ever so often, a worker passed by the image. "What are we looking at?" Lucius said.

"That looks like the Great Hall!" Hermione said. "But it's different! Look, the buttresses aren't the same as they are in our Hogwarts."

"What's that?" Draco pointed at some rather large holes in the wall.

"There was a battle," said Bellatrix. "Hogwarts was a prime target. It was hit in the first blitz. What you're looking at is battle-damage."

"Attacking a school?" Lucius frowned. "Merlin, those people you were fighting are rotters of the highest order."

Bellatrix said nothing, but let the image process in her mind. The workers were obviously repairing the damage done. Of course, time had resumed as normal in her own universe and almost three months had passed, after all. The war had obviously been won and her Dark Lord would be in firm control of wizarding Britain. The school would have to be prepared to receive students for the next year, so repairs were obviously underway.

That also meant that Bellatrix had been missing for the same amount of time. When she'd come back, she'd have some outlandish stories to tell to her fellow Death Eaters. Rookwood especially liked fantastical tales. She just hoped the Dark Lord wouldn't be too angry with her for disappearing for months. Surely he would understand.

He _had_ to.

Instantly, a touch of fear and doubt shot through her, as the Dark Lord wasn't exactly the forgiving sort. It was an usual feeling. The last three months she had lived without the shadow of fear lingering over her. To have it come back all at once made her realize just how much she actually _feared_ the Dark Lord.

What was odd, though, was that all the House banners were still up. The Dark Lord had planned to abolish all houses except Slytherin. So why were they still there? Perhaps it was merely a political game? Change could be slow, after all, and the Dark Lord could perhaps be taking things at a slower place to discourage any revolts.

Yes, that had to be it. And it was not as if the other houses were completely without worth.

"Why are we looking at Hogwarts?" Draco rubbed his chin. "Shouldn't we be looking at, you know, this location but in the other universe?"

"The connection likely led us to the place where the universes were first breached," said Lucius. "Our apple obviously isn't here anymore, though. Perhaps we can follow the trail."

The trio got to work on the machinery again. Instantly, pain shot through Bellatrix's body, even worse than before. Her head pounded, her joints stung and her hands started to tremble. She pumped laboured breath through hissed teeth as in front of her, the image was swirling as the magical tether was being followed to the source.

"M-maybe we should stop," sounded Hermione as she stood next to the pad, her hands pressed against the magical barrier. "We're hurting her badly."

"It's fine," Bellatrix hissed. "Keep going!"

"Are you sure?" Hermione asked her, eyes brimming with concern.

Soulful brown eyes.

"I've... endured... far... worse..." Bellatrix tried to grin, but gritted her teeth instead. She pressed a hand on the magical barrier, right where Hermione's hand was. The brown-haired girl gave her the warmest of smiles, but was still very much concerned. Even if it came from a mudblood, it was gratifying to know that someone, at least, cared.

Relief washed over her when the image stilled and revealed to be the inside of the Ministry of Magic. There was bustle about and plenty of activity, as was expected. Curious though that the gorgeous 'Magic is Might' statue was nowhere to be seen. Perhaps they would have found a more prominent place for it now that the Dark Lord was in control? She'd always said that the statue would look better somewhere in the daylight.

"Ministry of Magic, I think," said Lucius, shaking his head. "Very different design, but it looks just as dreary as ours. Why would our apple be there, though?"

"There's still some trail to follow," said Luna. "We'll have to increase the power again."

"Are you sure you can take more?" Hermione asked carefully.

Bellatrix nodded. "Do it!"

Instantly, more pain shot through her body, concentrating on her left arm this time. It wasn't the same painful sensation as earlier, this time feeling as if her skin of her inner forearm was boiling away. She grunted in suppressed agony and felt relieved when the image once again stabilized.

"This is as close as we can get," said Luna. "The apple is in this room. I'm sure of it."

The room in question, seemed to be an office of sorts. Many books, open and closed, were strewn about the large oaken desk as the image sharpened. But what was most staggering about it was just exactly who was sitting behind that desk, diligently writing on a scroll with a quill.

"Whoa!" Hermione gasped. "That's me! Look!"

Indeed, Bellatrix saw Potter's friend as well. But why would she be here? All mudbloods were to be banned from service in the Ministry. But she quickly surmised that she was likely a slave. Yes, had to be. She'd be chained to the desk by her ankle. The girl was not without talent, she'd had to admit and would have to work off her debt to wizarding society for the rest of her life. Her Dark Lord was nothing if merciful to those who would accept him as their lord and saviour.

"I… look so prim and proper," Hermione frowned. "And what the hell is wrong is with her hair? How hard is it to brush once in a while? It's not much effort, lady!"

Draco shook his head. "Not sure if I'd like this version of you, Dreamer. She looks like she has a stick up her arse the size of a bargepole."

Suddenly, the other Hermione put down her pen. She scrunched up her nose and seemed to listen carefully for a moment.

"Wait," Hermione said, her voice down to a whisper. "Did she just _hear_ us?"

"Possibly," said Lucius, quieting his tone a little. "It could be the veil between universes is thinner because we're closest to the apple in her universe."

"Good," smiled Bellatrix. "That means I'm one step closer to home."

It was then that her eyes happened to catch a pinboard with newspaper clippings. Apparently, Potter's friend had been keeping track of some prominent news stories. The only thing she could read were the headlines, though, and as soon as she did, a horrible feeling started to creep over her.

' _Bellatrix Lestrange still at large?_ '

That was odd. Shouldn't that read 'missing' instead of 'at large'?

But her heart skipped a beat when she read the next headline.

' _You-know-who finally defeated forever!_ '

She chuckled. No. No, this was bad comedy. A joke headline. Had to be.

No.

It's not true.

_IT CAN'T BE TRUE!_

Her breath quickened, her hands started to tremble. No. No. This wasn't the right universe. Those idiots must have done something wrong. It can't be...

Then, she remembered the pain in her arm. It had been different than the other pain. The dark witch practically ripped the fabric of her sleeve down to reveal... her dark mark. It was gone. Where once had been the dark mark she had so proudly born, was now a fading ugly red scar.

Wide-eyed.

Panic.

This couldn't only happen if... if...

No.

NO!

"S-Shut it down," she demanded, her voice an angry whisper, cracking from fear, sadness and a hint of rage.

"What's wrong?" Hermione asked, eyes brimming with concern. "Are you in pain?"

"SHUT IT DOWN!" she shrieked in anger and rage. She didn't want to see anymore. She didn't want to feel anymore. She didn't want to be here anymore.

Thinking she was in pain or danger, the experiment was quickly aborted. The machine's hum lowered at it was being shut down. The magical glow faded and the image disappeared, along with the magical barrier keeping Bellatrix trapped.

The dark witch said nothing, but let out an anguished cry before drawing her wand and apparating away. With a crack, she appeared on a hill in a forested clearing, the rain pouring down upon her. The darkened sky above seemingly mocked her cries of anger with retorts of rumbling lighting.

Nevertheless, Bellatrix continued to cry to the heavens in anger until her voice was raw and ragged. She took her wand and shouted the killing curse over and over again, lighting up the darkness with streaks of sickly green as she targeted everything around her. Trees around her withered and endless amount of leaves started falling to the ground and whipped around in the wind. When she was surrounded by the gnarled husks of dead trees and her exhaustion took the upper hand, the tears came. She collapsed on her knees, crying uncontrollably as her body wracked with sobs. She keened over and grasped her hands into the mud.

They'd lost.

The war was over.

They had lost.

She had lost.

Her Dark Lord was gone. Really dead this time.

How could this have happened?! What had gone wrong?! They were winning. THEY WERE WINNING!

Her mind reeled, her body shook and her will was draining. Her chest still heaved as her now drenched dress clung to her body, covered with mud. She waved her wand and apparated again. And again. And again. Rapidly chain-apparating was incredibly dangerous even when not in a distressed state of mind, but at this point Bellatrix couldn't care less. She finally appeared near Hogsmeade and strode into town with a purpose. The Hog's Head was quickly found and she strolled inside, made straight for the bar and slammed her fist on the counter.

She must have made for quite a sight: Wet, wild-eyed, covering in filth and trembling. But, again, she didn't give a toss.

"Fire whiskey," she rasped, her voice hoarse from shouting. "Leave the bottle."

"Can't be that bad, luv!" said the bartender and owner of the Hog's Head, a man with the unfortunate name of Dick Head.

"BOTTLE!" Bellatrix demanded swiftly.

"Whoa, what's the bee up your bonnet, luv?"

"I give you coin..." she hissed. "You give me drink! It's not that hard a concept to grasp!"

And so began the drinking. And the sorrow.

She couldn't go home. Not anymore. There was simply nothing for her to return to. _Pour. Drink._ And if she did, she'd likely either spent her entire life on the run as a wanted witch or be captured and imprisoned back in that hell-hole Azkaban. _Pour. Drink._ But this time, with nothing to hope for, nothing to hold on to. Just to wither away and die in abject misery. The home she had sought to return to was now hostile and unwelcoming to her. _Pour. Drink._

And the alternative? _Pour. Drink._ Being stuck in a place where she would never belong, with people who wore familiar faces but where not the people she had once known. _Pour. Drink._ A world where her ideals or her family name held no merit. _Pour. Drink._ A world which had actually managed to tempt her to consort with a mudblood. _Pour. Drink._ A MUDBLOOD! _Pour. Drink. Pour. Drink. Pour. Drink._

By now, the bottle was almost empty, but even then the pain was not yet numbed enough.

"MORE DRINK!" she demanded swiftly.

It wouldn't be the last drink that night.


	10. Balance of Terror

"Uuuuuuuuhhhhhhhhhhh," was Bellatrix's articulate response when she woke up with her head pounding as if a herd of centaurs had stampeded all over her. Her throat hurt, her head hurt, her body hurt, everything hurt.

Her eyes fluttered open, only for her to squeeze them shut again the moment the light hit her retinas. She groaned again, even less articulate this time.

A second look revealed that she had somehow reached the caretaker's shack in her drunken state, but had no idea how on Earth she had actually managed to do that. She had made it through the front door, which was apparently still open and got as far at the rug near her sofa before she collapsed on the floor. Judging from the smell near her and the foul taste in her mouth, she had vomited at least once.

There were serious rug burns on her skin as well. Outside, the sun was already setting... which meant she had likely spent close to twenty-four hours on the ground of her shack. There was another groan as she forced herself to stand up and staggered her way into the shower.

"Uuuuuhhhh," she groaned for the fourth time as she let the water cascade upon her, her head pressed against the cold tiles. It all came back to her now, crushing down upon her. As an added annoyance, she'd left her handbag with her stash of cigarettes at Malfoy manor, so she had nothing to smoke either. At least she scourgified her dress so she'd be somewhat presentable... she didn't really know what for, but at least there was that. She got dressed and looked grimly at herself in the mirror. Pale skin, red-blood shut eyes, cracked lips... Not a way a refined witch should look.

She was about to leave the bathroom when she heard a voice call out from the courtyard. "Hello?" sounded the voice of Tom Riddle. "Is someone in here? This is private property! Please come out!"

Bellatrix left the bathroom and found herself standing face to face with a wand-drawn Thomas Riddle. "Miss Black?" he asked, a stricken look on his face. "What happened to you?!"

* * *

And so Bellatrix found herself sitting in a large hut which smelled of dog at an over-sized table staring at a glass filled with a foul concoction: a mixure of three raw eggs, lemon juice, ginger, banana and crushed oats. Sat opposite to her was Riddle and though he wasn't her Dark Lord by far, she found his presence soothing. Rubeus Hagrid mulled about, tending to his myriad of pets while glancing over his shoulder. "Go on then," Hagrid offered a friendly smile. "Down the hatch. All in one go."

The dark witch put the glass to her lips and let the foul concoction down her throat. She choked and almost vomited again.

"Me da's famous anti-hangover cure," said Hagrid. "Not as good as something ole Snape would whip up for you, but certainly the next best thing."

"Be sure to drink plenty of water too," said Riddle. "You're probably badly dehydrated."

"Either of you have any cigarettes, by any chance?" Bellatrix spoke through a raspy voice.

Riddle and Hagrid shared a look. "Sorry, no," said Riddle. "Neither of us smoke."

"Figures," Bellatrix muttered. "Too much to hope for, I guess."

"Smoking's bad for you anyway," said Hagrid.

"Spare me the lecture," Bellatrix muttered back.

Riddle nodded. "I didn't realize you had come back. I thought I'd stumbled upon a burglary. You were lucky I found you when I did. Hagrid and I were about to leave on our weekend trip."

"Climbing Ben Nevis," Hagrid said. "Watching some Hinkypunks in the wild."

"Then down to the Nevis Dew Distillery for some fine whiskey tasting," added Riddle, obviously looking forward more to the whiskey tasting than the hiking.

"Ugh, don't mention alcohol," Bellatrix replied. Looking out the window, she watched over the rolling fields outside the Forbidden Forest and the sun over the lake. A setting sun, bathing the land in an ominous red glow. Fitting.

"Ah, we make the same trip every year," said Hagrid. "It's tradition by this point. That and going out dragon watching in Wales."

Bellatrix had some trouble wrapping her mind about the concept of Tom Riddle... her dark lord, ever being friends... actual friends with a hybrid failed wizard like Hagrid. But apparently, in this universe, they certainly were. The dark witch reached out and lay her hands on that of Riddle, who frowned curiously. "You could be so much more than what you are," Bellatrix said.

"Uhm," said Riddle, a bit uncomfortable now. "I'm not sure I know what you mean."

"My world, you are the Dark Lord. A wizard of great and terrifying power. You are the most powerful and dangerous dark wizard of your time. Witches and Wizards everywhere don't even dare to speak your name," Bellatrix spoke in awe.

"What?!" Hagrid laughed at the very notion, a great roaring belly laugh. "' _im_?!"

Bellatrix shut him up with a glare. "Followers flock to your cause. To your power. They share your vision of a pure and strong wizarding world. Followers who are willing to fight and die for your cause. To sacrifice everything for you. To grant you the immortality which you are destined to achieve!"

By now Riddle had grown quite a bit paler. "It's, uhm, quite disturbing to hear that. I understand how you would be concerned that I could become such a tyrant. Question is, why would I _want_ to be? I'm quite happy with my life as it is. And, to be honest, the pursuit of immortality is the purest of folly. It brought only misery to those who foolishly sought it out."

That was not the answer that Bellatrix wanted to hear. "But to defeat death itself..."

"All things must die, miss Black. That is the order of things," Riddle shook his head. "I understand what you're trying to to. You're trying gauge me, to see if there is this same darkness inside me like there is in the Tom Riddle of your world. I assure you, there is not."

Bellatrix nodded, trying to hide her disappointment. "Clearly," she spoke.

"Miss Granger told me a lot about you. And about the wars in your world my counterpart apparently caused," said Riddle. "Were I in your shoes, I would be concerned too. Miss Black, I assure you: good people like yourself won't have to take up arms against the likes of me here. I certainly won't start any wars."

Bellatrix nodded. Truth be told, she wasn't sure what she'd been hoping for.

"I hope I've set your mind at ease a little," said Riddle.

"Can't imagine you being a dark wizard and all, Tom," said Hagrid. "Last week you were frightened by a bat."

"Well, it was a very big bat, Rubeus," Ribble protested.

"Not to me, it wasn't," Hagrid chuckled.

Riddle seemed thoughtful for a moment. "We should leave soon if Hagrid and I are to catch the last train out to Fort William today, but I'm not sure we should leave you behind in such a state. Will you be alright?"

Bellatrix pursed her lips. Part of her wanted to yell out that she wasn't alright and she would likely never be alright again. But then she'd likely have to deal with both these two undoubtedly well-meaning but potentially annoying gentlemen fussing over her for the rest of the evening. Just about the last thing she wanted right now. "Yes," she lied. "Just a moment of weakness. I was thinking about people back in my world I'd never see again... and a place I can never go back to."

Riddle and Hagrid shared a look. "If you're sure," said Hagrid.

"I can't imagine leaving everything behind," said Riddle. "A moment of melancholy is to be expected."

Bellatrix sighed. "I just... need a nice long rest. A very long rest."

Apparently, Hagrid and Riddle accepted this answer for what it was and it wasn't long until they left for whatever adventure they had planned and, after again making sure she'd be alright, had left Bellatrix by herself in the caretaker's shack. Alone with her thoughts.

It was obvious that Thomas Riddle was demure and weak-willed, leaving her terribly disappointed. In a way, she hoped she might try to convince him to become the Lord Voldemort of this world, to reignite the fight for blood purity. But it was a pipe-dream. This man lacked any sort of ambition He would never be any Dark Lord. Not only that, but the idea of blood purity was decidedly old-fashion and unpopular in this world.

No Dark Lord to serve.

No pure-blood cause to pursue.

No place to go home to without being put back in that horrible prison for the rest of her wretched life.

What was left for her? What could she do? She had no more purpose. Years of loyal service to a cause she believed in. And now?

She had nothing. Less than nothing. All her loyalty, all her sacrifices meant nothing. Fourteen years of Azkaban. For nothing.

Her life was meaningless.

She felt tears stinging her eyes again. Perhaps it was time to fetch more drink. She closed her eyes and let her thoughts fall away from her. If there was nothing left, perhaps there was still something she could do with some measure of pride: take her fate in her own hands.

It was then that the door to her shack opened and in rushed a familiar figure. "Oh, I'm so happy I found you," sounded her voice, making Bellatrix wish had locked the door and turned off the lights beforehand.

The mudblood.

Of course, it just _had_ to be the mudblood. She'd come to pester her right now, when she was at her lowest point. The dark witch muttered under her breath, cursing whatever magical force she had pissed off to bring her to this point.

The mudblood, however, was blissfully unaware of this and rushed to sit down at her table. "I figured you'd go here. What happened? We're all so worried about you!"

At that moment, her sadness and despair made way for seething and rage. This mudblood... this filthy creature before her, became a symbol of everything that was wrong on this world. Soulful brown eyes looked at her.

Soulful brown eyes she would love to poke out with a fork if she had one by hand right now.

"What did you see?" Hermione said, placing her hand on hers. "Whatever it was, it can't have been that bad."

Not that bad?

NOT THAT BAD?!

She batted Hermione's hand away as if it was a burning poker. "Don't... touch... me..." she hissed menacingly through clenched teeth.

"I can see you're very upset," Hermione offered a warm smile. "You can talk to me. I'm a good listener."

Bellatrix let out a wry chuckle, shaking her head and letting her jet-black tresses roll over her shoulders. "Oh, reawwy?" she spoke in a mocking baby-voice. "Are you here for me, now? You... you've been... poisoning my mind from the moment I got here! And fool that I was, I let myself be strayed from the path. And by what? A pretty face with soft lips! And now she wants to talk! Talk?! What makes you think I want to talk to you?! What makes you think I want to be anywhere near you?!"

She rose to her seat to her full height. Which, admittedly, wasn't _very_ high, but she still did her best to be as intimidating as possible.

Unfortunately, it didn't work. The mudblood still sat there, concern etched on her face. But not for herself... The dark witch decided she'd have to take it up a notch and make her feelings quite clear.

"I HATE YOU! I hate your very existence! You are an inferior being, not worth standing in my shadow! If you were to drop dead right now, I would point and laugh at your corpse! I WANT YOU TO SUFFER PAIN AND MISERY! And I'm glad I no longer need to hide it," she hissed, right in her face.

The mudblood didn't even have the common decency to be scared of her. It was insulting.

Again, the mudblood touched her, grabbing her by the arm. "I don't really know what you saw, but it can't be that bad. Talk to me, Bella. I'm here for you."

Bellatrix let out a heavy sigh and ripped her arm from the girl's grasp. "Gods be damned, can't you get it through your thick skull that I want you gone?! YOU PATHETIC, FILTHY LITTLE MUDBLOOD!"

Hermione frowned a little. "Sorry, a what-blood?"

Bellatrix blinked. "Dirty blood! Filthy blood! You are not a pure witch! Your blood is dirty! Your bloodline is less than mud."

"Oh!" Hermione chuckled after thinking about it for a bit. "Now I get it! That's clever, really."

The dark witch could only stand there being gobsmacked. "Clever?" she swallowed hard. "It's an insult! You're _not_ supposed to like it, you insipid little cow!"

"No, no, really," said Hermione while reasoning it out. "Dirty blood. Mud is dirty. So mudblood. Interesting term, but I wonder how that would work if you take it literally. I mean, mud isn't exactly viscous so it wouldn't really work to have mud in your veins. Would probably lead to sepsis too, I'd wager. It doesn't really hold up when you think about it, but it's a clever pun at least."

Bellatrix simply stood there, defeated. The mudblood wasn't outraged, insulted or even self-righteous about one of the worst insults from her world. And she still wasn't afraid of her.

In the end, she couldn't even manage to rebuke a single mudblood.

Her failure was complete.

"Well," Bellatrix shook her head as she bitterly spat her final words to the mudblood. "Don't worry. I won't be your or anyone else's problem for much longer."

Now that _did_ have an effect on the mudblood. Hermione's face fell in a worried frown and she suddenly tensed up. "Bella?" she asked softly. "What... what does that mean?"

The dark witch roughly shoved her away as she brushed past her, not answering anymore questions. She was sick of the sight of her. Sick of the idea that she might once have been tempted by her. Sick of the thought that she had once kissed her. Sick of the thought that she wanted more of it.

"What does that mean, Bella?!" Hermione yelled after her with more intensity. But the dark witch would not hear her, taking out her wand. She briefly toyed with the idea of casting the killing curse but decided she wasn't worth the effort and instead apparated away with a resounding crack.

It was a wonderful night. A perfect summer night, actually.

Bellatrix stood on top of the astronomy tower, looking up into a clear, cloudless sky. With Hogwarts in lock-down for the summer, there was no light poisoning to speak off and the stars shone their brightest.

Having the Master Key proved its worth as she had used it to enter the potion storage and had procured her prize: a small bottle with a pink liquid inside. She had lucked out too, as apparently someone had hidden a packet of cigarettes in the potion storage, of which she had claimed a single one. She had lit one and took a few drags. It felt good. Better than it should.

Bellatrix had been dodging the mudblood too. The filthy creature had been running across the empty castle like a headless chicken yelling out for her. But thankfully, she wasn't here right now to disturb her peace.

She quietly finished her cigarette as she watched the sky. There were many things different in this world, and there were many constellations she knew had to be there, but were not. She supposed it didn't matter. Bellatrix folded a hand over her pendant, a family heirloom: a silver pendant shaped like the skull of a jackdaw. It was the only thing other than her wand which had brought with her from her own world. It was a symbol of pure-blood pride, of her convictions. Now, it was a stark reminder of everything she had lost. And a reminder how the people in this world might be wearing the faces of her family, but that they were not the same. It grounded her. It reminded her that she was in a place where she did not belong. A place that would never be hers. There was nothing for a her here. There was nothing for her in her own world. There was nowhere to go. No future. No hope.

The dark witch wouldn't waste this perfect moment any longer. It was time to do what she came here to do.

She gingerly picked up the delicate little bottle and carefully removed the cork. After regarding the liquid for a while, she put the bottle to her lips and let it slide down her throat. It was sweet and welcoming. Immediately, she sat down in the wooden chair she had brought along.

Silent Sleep, the potion was called. An apt name. She would simply go to sleep and fade into nothingness. No pain, no sorrow, no regrets. There was certainly something to say about the state of Hogwarts when considering how this supremely deadly potion was simply stood on a shelf in a potion store-room which was unlocked and easily accessible to students, but it wasn't her problem anymore.

It was already starting to work: she felt her arms growing heavy and they fell to her sides, while her head titled backwards. It was getting harder and harder to keep her eyes open.

Peace. She felt a peace she hadn't felt in decades just wash over her. And it felt so good.

She felt her heart-rate winding down, her breathing slow. It was only a matter of time now. She felt some movement as she slid from her chair and onto the cold stone of the tower, but she was beyond caring. With her eyes opening one last time, she was treated to a final look at the bright night sky. And she saw it.

Bellatrix. In the constellation of Orion. The star she was named after. Shining brightly. Strongly. Fiercely. And would remain doing to for long after her passing.

Perfect.

This was perfect.

She closed her eyes for a final time. Sounds around her faded, dulled, as her mind stopped processing input from her senses. Her body was shutting down. It wouldn't be long now.

But then... what was this? Something was off. There was movement near her. Something... lifted her head? What... who?

She felt her mouth being opened and then something slid down her throat. Then she was being sat up and the object slid further down until it hit her stomach. Instantly, her senses returned to her and her lungs forced a deep intake of breath. It felt as if something had exploded inside of her. Blood rushed to her head as her heart started pumping again, causing Bellatrix to feel lightheaded and almost faint. But something stopped her from falling backward: holding her sitting upright was none other than that annoying mudblood. Once again.

"Oh, Bella," the mudblood whispered, smiling brightly. "You're okay. I'm so glad you're okay!"

Bellatrix was stunned when the mudblood took her in a tight embrace, but was soon overcome with rage once more. The dark witch roughly pushed the girl away from her as she realized what had just happened. "You..." she hissed, narrowing her eyes, forcing her body to cooperate and stand up. "You shoved a bezoar down my throat?!"

The girl nodded. "I had to save you."

"How dare you?!" she spat. "How fucking dare you?! It's not only enough that you poison my mind, but now you rob me of my chance to die with dignity?! YOU... FILTHY..."

Smack. The sound of skin hitting on skin resounded through the warm air of this summer night. Bellatrix had been slapped against her cheek with such a force that it left her in stunned silence. Her cheek stung as she stood there, watching Hermione. For the first time ever, the girl was absolutely furious to the point of trembling with rage.

"YOUR LIFE DOESN'T JUST BELONG TO YOU!" Hermione shouted at the top of her lungs. "It belongs to every person whose life you touch! Every person who cares about you! Everyone... everyone who would miss you if you were gone."

Bellatrix opened her mouth to speak, but lacked the words.

"How could you?!" Hermione shouted, tears running down her cheeks. "How could you do something like this?! Have you ever thought about the people you'd leave behind? What it would do to them? How it would hurt them?"

"Hah!" Bellatrix snorted. "I don't belong here. I have nobody. Nobody will miss me!"

"That's not true and you know it! You have Narcissa! Andromeda! Lucius! Draco! Luna!," Hermione threw back in her face. "You have _me._ "

Bellatrix tried to think of an angry retort, but could only shake her head in anger.

"Bella, you matter!" Hermione rushed forward and grabbed her arm. This time, the dark witch didn't push her away. "Never think that you don't matter. You touch lives without even realizing it. Everybody does! You _matter!_ "

Bellatrix bristled taking a step towards her. The girl didn't even flinch, instead raising her chin to meet her stern gaze. "You want to know what I saw in that pensieve? Do you?! We lost the war, Hermione! We lost the war!"

Hermione nodded in understanding. "I'm so sorry, Bella. I really am. But that's no reason to end your life!"

"Don't you get it?!" Bellatrix shouted back. "Decades of my life gone! WASTED! Nothing is left! My home is gone! I have nothing to go back to!"

"Then stay here with _us_!" Hermione pleaded. "Is this world really so bad that you'd rather die instead?! Is it really?!"

Bellatrix bit her lip, already knowing the answer but her being her, she was far too proud to say it out loud. "I don't have a place in this world," she hissed.

"Then find one and claim it!" retorted Hermione.

"I have _nothing_!" Bellatrix shouted back in her face.

"Then start over," Hermione replied calmly.

Bellatrix bit back. "My life no longer has a purpose!"

"Then find a new one!" Hermione said, raising her chin.

The dark witch took a few deep breaths. "You make it sound as if it's that simple."

"That's because it _is_!" Hermione shouted back. "It really is _that_ simple!"

"Why do you care so much if I end my own life or not?!" Bellatrix narrowed her eyes. "The choice is mine and not yours!"

Hermione was, once again, furious. More tears came as she clenched her jaw and Bellatrix actually took a step back as the brown-haired girl slowly raised her head to meet her gaze. "BECAUSE I DON'T WANT YOU TO END UP LIKE MY FATHER!"

Emotionally drained, Hermione fell to her knees sobbing quietly.

"Your... your father?" Bellatrix whispered, regarding the spent girl. She sat down next to her, not quite knowing what to do as Hermione was softly weeping. She settled from running a hand through her brown hair. This was apparently regarded as an invitation as the girl shifted to sit down next to her. For a while, the two of them sat together in silence, the only sound being Hermione's quiet sniffles.

"My mum died when I was very young," Hermione whispered. "Some stupid car accident. Dad never really got over it. We... we tried to make the best of it. He starting drinking. A lot. I did my best to help him, but what could I really do? I was a child!"

Bellatrix said nothing, but let her tell her tale.

"I'd just turned twelve when it happened. Dad had a bad night of drinking and botched up a surgery. He was sued for malpractice. First he lost his license. Then he lost the practice. We were going to lose our house. It... it was just too much for him," Hermione sniffed. "I should have known something was up when I came home one day and dad just smiled at me and handed me a puppy. He didn't really like animals and we couldn't afford a pet. And then suddenly... he must have made up his mind by then and I don't know if it was guilt or if he didn't want to leave me all alone. Suppose it doesn't matter in the end."

"It happened a few weeks later," Hermione fell silent for a moment, steeling herself for recounting the most painful memory of her life. "I was the one who found him... hanging from the ceiling. It's not like you see in the films. You don't scream or faint. I just stood there numbly. Called 999. Just... told them my father had hanged himself with the tone of voice of a robot. Odd thing, really. One moment you're on the side-walk worrying about what secondary school is going to be like after summer and then you come home to find your dad swinging from the rafters," Hermione was still teary-eyed, but let out a brief snort. "And then... the whole mess of me being set up to go into the foster care system because I had no family that could take me in. They were going to take me from my home, take away my dog, take away everything."

Hermione shook her head. "And then my Hogwarts letter came, throwing my life into further chaos."

For the first time since meeting Hermione, Bellatrix simply had nothing to say. No retort, no insult and any sarcastic remarks died in her throat. Good Merlin, she actually felt _sorry_ for the girl: how far the mighty Bellatrix Lestrange had fallen.

"I never told anyone this," said Hermione, drying her tears. "Not even Draco and Luna. It took me a long time to get to terms with it, but when I did, I decided I would live my life to the fullest. I'd do all the things _I_ wanted to do. Live in the moment. Never let anyone get me down or hold me back. Dream big and follow through."

The girl shifted again. "Dad, he just... gave up. He just _left_ me," she said, her voice full of spite. She turned her gaze upward, looking at Bellatrix with pleading eyes. "I don't want you to give up too," she started sniffing again. "I don't want you to... leave me too..."

The dark witch wasn't sure how to respond or how she even could. Instead, she lay a hand on the side of Hermione's waist, allowing the younger witch to position her head on her shoulder.

Infuriating though she might be, Hermione's passionate plea had managed to convince her of one thing: taking one's fate into one's own hands for the sole reason of ending it all wasn't strength. It was cowardice. Hermione's father, though it was obvious some part the girl still adored him, hadn't been strong enough to continue on, not even for the sake of his own child. In that moment, Bellatrix was disgusted with herself for even considering this option: ending it all and for what? A man who would be a Dark Lord but eventually was a failure himself? Would she follow a dead man as if she was a lemming diving off a cliff into the sea? Or would she strive to recover from this blow?

Yes. Yes, she did have the strength to go on. She did have the strength to stare adversity in the eye and deny it its victory.

"I won't," she whispered softly. "Not anymore."

"I'm glad," Hermione smiled the warmest smile.

They sat together for a while, in silence. Above them, the stars shone brighter than ever before.


	11. What Are Little Girls Made Of?

Who knew that a suicide attempt, especially a failed one, could be so emotionally exhausting?

Bellatrix groaned as she stretched after once again waking up on the sofa in the caretaker's shack and immediately regretting her movement when she felt just how stiff her body was. Her eyes still closed, she concluded that she was getting too old to spend successive nights on either the floor or the sofa. She had a bed. She should use it.

Something warm and soft was besides her and she felt nimble fingers gently stroke through her hair. Her eyes fluttered open and she noticed two things. One, judging from the color of the light pouring in through the window, she'd almost slept another day away and, second, soulful brown eyes regarded her as Hermione was gently stroking her hair.

"Good, uhm, just not evening by a sliver," Hermione yawned briefly.

"Hm," Bellatrix muttered. "How long have you been awake?"

"About ten minutes or so," Hermione replied. "Didn't feel like waking you yet."

Memories came flooding back. The last evening was rather... intense. Hermione'd been trembling when they arrived back at the shack and they had spent most of the evening close to each other on the sofa, neither of them quite knowing what to say but neither of them wanting to be alone.

"Oh, wow," said Hermione. Bellatrix followed her gaze to the ashtray on the table, almost bursting with cigarette stubs. One thing Hermione had done well was to bring Bellatrix's handbag with her, including her stash of smokes. It had come in handy yesterday for some stress relief. "I think we smoked five packs between the two of us."

"Bit excessive," Bellatrix admitted. "I suppose I should air out the cottage a bit."

"It was an… interesting evening. I suppose we got a bit carried away," Hermione chuckled.

"I'll say. But that stash was supposed to last for four weeks," said Bellatrix.

"I know a place where we can get more. There's a motorway fairly close to Hogwarts and there's a petrol station. About an half an hour by carpet," said Hermione.

"Still can't believe nobody sells cigarettes in Hogsmeade!" Bellatrix sighed. "I suppose we should get up."

"Do we have to?" Hermione said, "It's nice and cozy by the fire."

"No food in the house," said Bellatrix, raising her hand to rest on her forehead. "I wasn't expecting to be in for the summer, so didn't buy any before I left. Should we get some take-away in Hogsmeade? There's a kebab shop."

"Sounds lovely."

Silence.

"I don't want to move," said Bellatrix.

"Me neither," replied Hermione.

"Oh, Merlin, it's a three-hour train-ride back to Wiltshire," muttered Bellatrix.

"Not today," said Hermione. "Just checked the clock. We already missed the last train out of Hogsmeade."

"Small mercy," Bellatrix closed her eyes. "I suppose I have some explaining to do when I get back to the manor."

"Tell the truth," said Hermione.

"Even about..."

"... maybe do leave out that part," said Hermione. "It'll freak out your sisters for certain."

Bellatrix closed her eyes. "I know. I'm not going home, am I?"

Oddly enough, there was far less bitterness in that statement than there had been yesterday. Bellatrix closed her eyes and let out a sigh. What was she going to do now? What was there left to do? The same emptiness inside of her she had felt yesterday had not left her.

"I hope you understand that I won't let you out of my sight today... or maybe for the rest of the entire week," said Hermione, continuing to stroke her hair.

Bellatrix looked at her for a moment. "You made your point yesterday. I won't try again. I am many things, Hermione, but never a liar."

"I know," Hermione smiled. "Just the same. Indulge me."

The dark witch supposed she should be happy that Hermione cared enough to keep an eye on her. There weren't many people back home who would. It was odd, really. She'd been around pure-blood paragons for most of her life; the very embodiment of magical power and wizardry, if all the propaganda was to be believed. But the one person whom had actually cared enough to give her some human warmth was a simple mudblood. It was an oddly humbling thought.

The ticking of claws on wood sounded as something on four legs sauntered from near the fireplace to the sofa. Hermione beloved old alsatian pressed his muzzle into Hermione's side and let out a soft bark. Hermione smiled and reached over to pat his head.

"You brought the dog?"

"I couldn't leave Spock alone. He might look pretty calm now, but last time I left him at the manor he tore up Narcissa's favorite sofa."

"Oh, dear."

"That's what Narcissa said," Hermione grimaced. "Once she stopped swearing. I told her Spock was very sorry."

Bellatrix snorted. "He was never sorry."

"Narcissa didn't know that!"

Spock barked again, more urgently this time.

"What does he want?" Bellatrix asked.

"Walkies," Hermione sighed.

This caused Bellatrix to groan. "Tell him to shit on the floor," she muttered, but then quickly caught herself. "On second thought, don't."

Hermione and Bellatrix shared a look at a feeling of defeat washed over them: they were going to have to leave the comfy sofa next to the warm, cozy fireplace.

"Kebab shop?" Hermione asked.

"Kehab shop," Bellatrix confirmed.

* * *

With their bellies full of fattening yet tasty fast food, the two witches found themselves taking an evening stroll through Godric park. Though it was still reasonably light outside, evening would come soon. The park itself was reasonably sized for a village of Hogsmeade stature and had some paths running through cultivated woodlands.

Hermione had brought that dog of hers along. Thankfully, the older dog was well behaved and trotted besides Hermione on the lead. Aside from stopping ever so often to sniff something, Spock kept up just fine. They passed the point where the park merged with the Forbidden Forest, naturally separated by a wrought-iron. Of course, that wouldn't stop a wandering spirit, so Bellatrix kept an eye out for the old banshee.

"You're fidgeting with your wand," said Hermione.

"Just making sure I'm ready should we be jumped by Old Shrieking Sarah," said Bellatrix.

"You do that more often, I think," Hermione replied. "Nerves from the war?"

"Spies everywhere," Bellatrix whispered. "The possibility to be assaulted at every turn you make. That'd make you jumpy too."

"There's no war here," Hermione was quick to remind her. "But I guess old habits die slowly."

"What about your habits, hm?" said Bellatrix. "Those stories you're always reading, watching or are on about. What was it again? Star Wars or somesuch?"

Hermione head snapped to her, an intensity in her eyes. "Star _Trek_ ," she almost hissed. "There's a really big difference between those two!"

"Right," Bellatrix rolled her eyes. "Sorry I brought it up."

"No, I'm sorry," Hermione cast her eyes downward. "You just touched on a pet peeve of mine. But, to answer your question, when I grew up it was just my dad and me and I was often alone while he worked. I didn't have many friends and it could be so lonely at times, so I lost myself in stories of the fantastic."

A broad smile crossed Hermione's features when she thought back of her own past. "I used to dream that I was Captain Kirk, flying through space and having all kind of amazing adventures."

"But when you find yourself in an actual magical world with true wonders you don't want to be a part of it?" Bellatrix asked.

Hermione shrugged. "Dreaming about it and living it are two very different things. And I never said that I didn't want to be a part of it. Magic is a part of me, but so is the muggle world. I just don't like the idea of being limited. I know there's still a lot of wizards who think that our two worlds are mutually exclusive, but it doesn't have to be that way."

Bellatrix couldn't wrap her head around this at first. Who wanted to be mundane? Would wanted to be _magicless_? It boggled her mind. "You are an enigma, Hermione."

"What about you?" Hermione asked, the two of them stopping when Spock had found an interesting pole to sniff.

"What about me?" asked Bellatrix.

"You must have had dreams when you were younger. I mean, before you got yourself drafted in a war you didn't ask for," Hermione asked, looking at her expectantly.

Bellatrix thought for a moment, shaking her head slightly. "You're going to laugh," she muttered.

"I promise I won't," said Hermione.

"You will."

"I won't," Hermione said, more resolutely this time.

Bellatrix let out a sigh, looking away from Hermione as she was about to reveal one of her deepest, darkest and embarrassing secrets. "I… I wanted to be an artist," she replied softly. The dark witch turned back to Hermione expecting to see a mockingly raised eyebrow or an insulting giggle, but the expected ridicule never came. Instead, Hermione was waiting patiently for her to finish the story. "I loved to paint. I was really good at it too," said Bellatrix. "Picking out the right colors, mixing them, seeing it all come together."

Hermione smiled as Spock pulled on the lead again, the two women continuing along the path. "Why didn't you pursue it?"

"It didn't fit in with the family ideas," said Bellatrix. "My father gave me a stern lecture. About the pursuit of power, wealth and wizarding purity. How me being an artist would not contribute to any of that. How I'd become an embarrassment to the family. He actually gave me an ultimatum: get rid of my easel or I would be welcome to bring it along when he'd throw me out of the house and cut me off from the rest of my family."

"That's awful," said Hermione, sympathy on her voice.

"So, I was a good little pure-blood witch and did what I was told," said Bellatrix, surprised by just how bitter she had sounded just now. "I got rid of my paints, my easel and even my paintings."

"You could pick it up again," said Hermione.

"Nah," Bellatrix shook her head. "That train has left the station."

"Why?" Hermione smiled at her. "What's stopping you?"

Bellatrix stopped in her tracks. Hermione was right. What _was_ stopping her? "I don't know," she answered honestly.

"Sometimes we're our own worst enemies," Hermione replied.

It was a silly thought. She hadn't painted in over three decades. Surely she couldn't just...

Could she?

She watched in silence for a bit while Hermione released her dog from the lead and spent some time throwing a stick for him to chase.

* * *

The Scottish countryside was bathed in the orange evening glow as Bellatrix found herself standing some decent amount of yards away from a muggle petrol station. In charge of guarding the rolled up flying carpet, Bellatrix peeked from behind a large metal dumpster, glaring at this absolutely foul-smelling place where stinky muggles came to feed their noisy metal carriages. Next to the petrol station was a long stretch of asphalt which absolutely ruined the beautiful Scottish landscape while more noisy metal carriages zipped by.

Like the good boy that he was, Spock sat next to her, his lead attached to the metal dumpster.

"I swear," Bellatrix muttered. "Muggles. They ruin everything they touch, don't you agree?"

"Arf," replied Spock.

The only thing good about this petrol station was that it supposedly had cigarettes inside. Bellatrix could see through the large windows of the petrol station and watched Hermione's movements inside the building like a hawk. By now, Hermione had picked up some things from the foul-smelling shop and was currently queuing for service. In front of her was a burly man from a particularly large metal carriage which Hermione had called a 'lorry' while behind her was a messy woman whom had her nose buried in some sort of small rectangular device.

"Look at them," she told the dog. "What a bunch of disgusting people... beasts! How does Hermione cope?"

"Arf," replied Spock.

"Yes, I quite agree," Bellatrix nodded and resumed her lurking. By now, Hermione had reached the counter and, for the first time, the dark witch noticed the spotty twerp who manned the till. The attendant spoke to Hermione and then the both of them laughed for a moment.

"Did... did you see that?!" Bellatrix hissed.

"Arf?" replied Spock.

"He's... he's _flirting_ with her!" Bellatrix grit her teeth, now absolutely seething. "How dare he? He dare he even think that he's anywhere near Hermione's league?!"

"Arf!" replied Spock.

"Oh yes," Bellatrix almost growled. "I bet he'd love to 'service' Hermione, alright! He overestimates himself!"

The spotty twerp went to fetch her something Bellatrix couldn't see and then the both of them laughed again.

"Oh, that's it. THAT IS IT!" Bellatrix felt her nails dig into the skin of her palm. A moment later, her wand was drawn. "You've just earned yourself a hex, you pathetic little wanker! So, what do we do, Spock? Have sardines pour out of his nose or a simple head shrink spell?"

"Arf," replied Spock.

"Yes, you're right, too easy," grinned Bellatrix. "Oh, I got it. Let's make the spotty twerp ooze rivers of yellow pus from his boils!"

"Arf!" replied Spock.

Just as a vengeful Bellatrix waved her wand to make the arcane gestures necessary to curse her hapless victim, the sound of a high-pitched voice caused her to bite her tongue and quickly pocket her wand.

"Mummy!" sounded a muggle girl as she and her mother passed by the dumpster. "That strange lady is talking to her dog."

"Don't talk to homeless people, dear," replied her mother without so much as looking at her.

Bellatrix blinked, then narrowed her eyes and slowly started to aim her wand at the muggle mother's back intending to let the darkest of arts spew forth.

However, by now, Hermione had exited the petrol station with a bag full of purchases. Bellatrix reluctantly stowed her wand before she could hex her target and smiled in relief as Hermione approached. After taking a moment to pat her dog on the head and giving him a knotted hide chew toy to eagerly play with, the young witch turned to Bellatrix. "See. That wasn't so bad, now was it?"

"It was awful," Bellatrix hissed. "What did that spotty twerp do to you, pet?"

"He sold me these," Hermione grinned, producing four packets of cigarettes. "And I bought some things to snack on for the evening. Iron bru and crisps," she said, producing a two liter bottle of orange liquid and a big packet of crisps.

"Mackie's of Scotland," Bellatrix read out loud. "Haggis and black pepper flavour potato crisps?"

"They're delicious!" Hermione smiled warmly. "My treat!"

As Hermione was rolling out her carpet for the flight back home, Bellatrix took once last glance at the mother now being serviced by the spotty twerp. "You two have no idea just how lucky you are," she whispered. "Next time, I will not be so merciful!"

"Coming?" Hermione asked as the carpet was rolled out and ready to leave. Spock had already boarded, laying on the carpet while happily chewing on his new toy.

The trip back by carpet was, thankfully, uneventful and when they arrived back at Hogwarts, Hermione landed her carpet at the bailey, quite near the caretaker's shack. Bellatrix and Spock disembarked, leaving Hermione to roll up her carpet. As Bellatrix unlocked the front door to her new home, Hermione looked upon the castle. "I've never really appreciated just how creepy Hogwarts is, but now that's completely empty and silent it's... as if it's watching us."

"It might actually be," said Bellatrix as she opened the door. "There's powerful magics on these grounds. Sometimes it develops a mind all of its own."

"Right," Hermione gulped. "Not comforting."

By now, the sun was about to go under, making the castle even more eerie. The young witch quickly followed Bellatrix inside. The dark witch waved her wand about and all the lights in the cottage came on. A second wave made a few logs fly into a fireplace and in a few moments, a cozy fire was warming the one-room home.

The two witches quickly curled up on the sofa in front of the fire while Spock collapsed next to it and started snoozing. Hermione reached down and stroked him for a moment. The next thing the both of them did was to open up a pack of camels and light a cigarette. In contrast to their nicotine binge the previous night, both witches decided to keep the number of smokes today to a much more respectable single one.

Two glasses were poured of the orange liquid and a bowl was filled with crisps. Bellatrix took one of the apparently haggis and black pepper flavoured monstrosities, sniffed it for good measure and then carefully took a small bite. After chewing she nodded in approval. "These _are_ good."

"Told you!" Hermione smiled.

The bowl and the glasses were quickly emptied. Hermione leaned into Bellatrix, her legs pulled against her as she sat sideways on the sofa. Bellatrix sat in silence as the younger witch gentle stroked her arm.

"Why are you so quiet?" Hermione asked, while she continued stroking softly. "Is everything alright?"

"I..." Bellatrix sighed. "I can't stop being enraged by the way that spotty twerp at that muggle petrol station treated you."

"What?" Hermione blinked, then chuckled. "What happened?"

"He..." Bellatrix ate her words. "It doesn't matter! He should treat you with respect!"

"But... what... did... he... even... do?" Hermione was genuinely flabbergasted.

"It was the way he made eyes at you!" hissed Bellatrix. "You might not be a pure-blood, but you're still an exalted being! You should not be... oggled by some magicless spotty teenage wanker!"

Hermione first smiled. Then giggled. Then laughed.

"What's so funny?!" Bellatrix demanded angrily.

"Bella," Hermione said between giggles. "You are _jealous_!"

Bellatrix sputtered angrily. "Jealous?! Me?! Of _HIM_?!"

"Oh my god, you completely are!"

"Oh, that's it!" Bellatrix snarled and moved to get up. "I'm going over there right now and turn his tiny prick into a platypus!"

"No, no, no, no, no, no!" Hermione yelped and clamped around Bellatrix's waist, pulling her back to the sofa where she landed with a thud. "Calm down! There's nothing going on between me and a spotty petrol station attended I've only met for three minutes."

"But he made you laugh!" Bellatrix protested.

"He made a joke! It was funny! It didn't mean anything," Hermione laughed. "Relax!"

Bellatrix crossed her arms and grunted briefly, letting her displeasure known.

"Bella," said Hermione raising her hand to her cheek. "I assure you, I'm strictly into girls and girls only. Well... and women."

Upon hearing that, Bellatrix suddenly felt as if the room had gotten a lot smaller and warmer. The cheek Hermione had laid her hand on felt as if it was on fire. Hermione offered her a sultry, confident smile as she gently slid her thumb back and forth over her cheekbone.

"Bella. I have strong feelings for you. Strong romantic feelings," said Hermione, her voice a whisper but brimming with her usual confidence. "I know the spark between us is there. We've kissed twice. Two absolutely fantastic kisses, I might add. I've never felt like this for anyone before ever and I'd love to explore those feelings. With you."

Bellatrix fought to keep her breathing under control. This... this was unexpected. These things simply _didn't_ happen. Uh, well, they did happen, otherwise mudbloods would never have existed, but these things just never happened to _her_. Her mind was moving a mile a minute as she was trying to comprehend what Hermione had just told her.

Bellatrix didn't have any trouble with the idea of _enjoying_ Hermione and parting ways. She was planning to go home, after all, never to meet her again. Obviously, that wouldn't be happening now.

"S-Shouldn't you be into girls your own age?" Bellatrix asked.

Hermione scoffed. "Girls my own age are boring. At least the ones I dated. They're not like you. You're interesting. You're beautiful. You're... special," she smiled.

Bellatrix shook her head. "I had a husband. Back in my world. There was no love between us. The marriage was a contract between our families. A child was expected, but I never had any."

"An arranged marriage?!" Hermione gasped. "That's horrid!"

"You'll get no argument from me," said Bellatrix.

"Pfft," Hermione blew a lock of her own hair away. "Arranged marriages, blood purity cults, two wizarding wars, parents who crush their own children's dreams under threat of being disowned, POW camps guarded by dementors... Your world sounds absolutely awful! Why did you even want to go back?!"

"To rejoin someone I loved but would never love me back," said Bellatrix, her heart constricting. "I was just too blind to see it. But he's dead now. Truly dead."

"Wait," said Hermione. "Are you telling me you've... you've never been loved by someone? Actually loved?"

Bellatrix narrowed her eyes. "I've been loved plenty of times, thank you very much."

"That's not what I meant," Hermione said. "God, I'm so sorry. But...if you'd let me, I'd very much like to be the first."

A relationship. Hermione was talking about an honest-to-goodness relationship. Bellatrix knew that part of her greatly desired this. To be loved. To actually be loved. To have that longing for closeness finally answered. To spend her life with someone who loved her, someone _she_ could love. However, instantly the old revulsion she had been raised with came bubbling to the surface. Just as quickly as they came, the dark witch pressed them down again: after yesterday Hermione simply didn't deserve being thought of in such a manner.

But that would never change one simple fact: Bellatrix was pure, while Hermione was not. Surely a relationship would never work out between them.

"You're a wonderful young woman..." Bellatrix started.

"But?" Hermione asked carefully.

"Fact is, I don't know what I want. I was set on going home, now I'm not. I was ready to end it yesterday, and yet I'm here still alive," Bellatrix said. "I don't know... I just don't know what to think right now."

Hermione nodded with a smile. "You need some time to think about it. I understand. This is new terrain for me too. Just... promise me you won't string me along, okay? I have feelings too," said the young witch, her confidence faltering somewhat. "I can wait a bit longer. It's fine if you just want to be friends, but... I won't lie. I'd love it if we could be more. Oh... and don't expect me to stop flirting with you either," she added with a wink.

Bellatrix didn't move when Hermione leaned in softly and brushed her lips against hers. This time, neither of them deepened the kiss. It was chaste, soft and gentle... a promise for more to come, in a way. The dark witch found herself gently stroking the length of Hermione's hair: so soft and inviting. There were no further words said and for the first in a long time, the dark witch had absolutely no idea what to do or what to say. It was obvious to both of them that something between them had changed, but neither wanted to put words to it.

They sat in silence for a moment, simply contemplating what had just happened. Truth be told, Bellatrix felt the urge to grab one of the packs of cigarettes and smoke all of them one after the other. Instead, she settled for another glass of that orange sugary fizzy brew.

"It's getting a bit late," Hermione yawned, holding her hand in front of her mouth.

"Feel free to take the Master Key," said Bellatrix. "Unlock the dorms."

Hermione seemed stricken for a moment, glancing out the window over to the very much darkened castle of Hogwarts. "Uhm," she started. "Didn't I say that Hogwarts is very creepy when it's so empty and quiet? And now that it's dark..."

Bellatrix tilted her head slightly in response.

"I... I don't want to leave you alone," said Hermione, looking away from her.

"Hermione," Bellatrix started with a slight groan. "I promised you I won't try to end my life again. I always keep my word. You don't have to worry about me."

Hermione raised her gaze, tilted her head slightly and gave her a half-smile. "I... I don't want to be alone either."

Bellatrix rolled her eyes. "Fine!" she threw up her hands, causing Hermione to produce a smile so warm it could melt the polar ice-caps.

"Shower before bed?" Hermione asked. "You have a shower cap, yes?"

"It's sat on the tap," said Bellatrix as Hermione almost skipped past her.

The brown-haired witch rushed through the door, but stopped just from closing it, popping her head out of the bathroom with a sultry grin. "Feel free to join me in the shower. I'd be happy to soap you up!"

' _Merlin, does she ever stop?!'_ Bellatrix sighed inwardly. "I'll, uhm, wash up at the sink."

Hermione stuck her tongue out playfully. "Prude," she giggled before giving her a wink and disappearing into the shower. The sounds of falling water came quickly afterwards.

Bellatrix decided to let the insult slide and did indeed wash up at the sink. After tossing her clothes and lifting a nightshift over her head, she started to notice that the room was growing rather cold all of a sudden. A low whine came from the corner of the room, where a very scared looking dog stood pressed against the wall with his tail tucked between his legs. The source of both the cold and Spock's fear materialized in front of her in the shape of the blue, translucent form of her younger teenage self.

"You know," spoke Ghost-Bellatrix as she crossed her arms and gave her a look of disapproval. "You're letting the best thing that ever happened to you slip right through your fingers."

"Oh, piss off, dead girl," Bellatrix rolled her eyes. "Go find a bog to haunt!"

"Wow, what a comeback," Ghost-Bellatrix rolled her eyes and gave her a slow, mocking applause. "Never heard that one before. What are you going to taunt me with next? Tell me I should wear a sheet over my head?"

"It'd be a start!" snorted Bellatrix. "Nobody likes a ghostly voyeur!"

"Don't try to distract me!" Ghost-Bellatrix huffed. "Why aren't you in that shower right now getting soaped up by Hermione?! If I were in your place, I would love to be soaped up by Hermione."

"What's stopping you?!" Bellatrix hissed. "Go right ahead! She's all yours!"

"Pfft," Ghost-Bellatrix chortled. "First of all, I'm a ghost in case you haven't noticed. Second, if I'd go in there, I'd snap-freeze all the water."

"Right. Frost Wraith," said Bellatrix. "I suppose your biggest contribution to this school is wrecked plumbing."

"Merlin's big fat arse, you are a wretch, aren't you?" Ghost-Bellatrix rubbed her temples. "What's your malfunction?! Why aren't you going for an amazing girl who clearly wants you to go for her?"

Bellatrix spun on her heals. "She's still mud," she hissed and pounded her chest. "I'm still pure!"

"What the hell does that even matter?!" Ghost-Bella threw her hands up in exasperation. "I swear, it's as if I'm talking to a slab of granite!"

"What does it matter, she asks," Bellatrix retorted. "It matters everything!"

"Stubborn old..." Ghost-Bella groaned. "If I were you..."

"But you're _not_ me, are you?!" Bellatrix interrupted. "If you were me, you'd still be alive! If you were me, you would have found Andromeda in the burning tower on your first attempt! If you were me, you would have dragged her out and nobody else! If you were me, you would have gotten your sister AND yourself to safety! If you were me, you would have had a life! What are you instead? You are dead because you fucked up! You are dead because you failed! And now you are going to spend all eternity tied to this mortal coil in a pale imitation of life because you were afraid! YOU WERE WEAK! AND AFRAID! You are a failure on every which level and I am embarrassed by the fact that we even share the same name!"

The ghost girl in front of her started to think of a retort, but then shook slightly. Blue, translucent tears rolled over her ghostly cheeks, falling down to the ground as frozen ovals. "I'm glad I'm dead," hissed the girl. "Because that means I never got to turn into _you!"_

The ghost-girl pirouetted in the air to move off in a huff, but turned around once she reached the wall for one last look. Tears still falling down to the ground, Ghost-Bellatrix gave her a long look. "You're right. I was afraid to die. Of course I was! I was only seventeen. But you?" she gave a mocking snort. "You're afraid to _live_."

That said, the ghost girl shot off through the wall, leaving a thin layer of ice on the wallpaper.

"Spectral bint," Bellatrix whispered after her.

By now, Hermione had gotten out of the shower and opened the door. Dressed in light pink pajamas, Hermione had collected a second comforter from the storage area next to the bathroom and stepped into the living room on bare feet. "Whoa," she muttered and pressed the comforter to her. "It's gotten cold in here all of a sudden."

"We'll leave the fireplace burning," said Bellatrix. "Should warm up the shack."

Hermione stopped by her dog to give him a pet and then put the comforter on the sofa while Bellatrix claimed her bed. While the brown-haired witch was busy fluffing up her comforter, Bellatrix was only to eager to crawl under the duvet and sleep for a thousand years. After killing all the lights, leaving only the crackling fireplace to dimly illuminate the shack, she did just that.

"Oh, bother," muttered Hermione after she had crawled underneath her comforter.

"What?" Bellatrix asked with a tired voice.

"I'm just a bit too tall to be able to properly stretch out on the sofa," said Hermione, apparently shifting around uncomfortably.

' _Merlin, I'm too good for this world',_ Bellatrix thought to herself before she spoke into the darkness. "Come sleep here. This bed's big enough for two."

She needn't have said that twice. "Ta!" sounded from the sofa, right before Hermione hopped into bed, leaving Bellatrix to wonder just how she had managed to cross the distance in so short a time.

Hermione lay down under the duvet and got comfortable, leaving the dark witch to instinctively move a few inches away from her. After a few moments of awkwardness, the need for sleep started to outweigh it. Her eyes closed and she slipped into Morpheus' embrace without so much as a second thought.


	12. Amok Time

When she opened her eyes, the dark witch let out a tired groan. It was still dark in the shack and with the fireplace having gone out, leaving but a few glowing embers, only the moon sent a sliver of light into the shack.

The first thing she noticed was the clock near the bed. Three in the morning.

The witching hour. Fitting.

The second thing she noticed was that something really soft and warm was pressing against her. Hermione, of course, had shifted over in her sleep, wrapping her arms around her waist, hooked a leg around hers and parked her head on her shoulder. Impossibly soft brown hair spread out over her arm and chest as the younger witch slept peacefully.

Bellatrix rolled her eyes, even though she didn't really want to admit to herself that it felt nice.

Really nice, actually.

Bellatrix watched the young woman for a moment. She hadn't been lying when she'd told Hermione that she was a wonderful young woman: she didn't know anyone in her own world who'd bother to travel half-way across the country for her. Well, other than some zealous aurors who'd meant to hunt her down and put her back in Azkaban, that is. A wry chuckle escaped when she remembered the last one who tried. She didn't remember her name, only her wet-behind-the-ears-countenance. Her sheer arrogance of basically a fresh recruit being so deluded to think she could make a name for herself by bringing in the feared and dangerous Bellatrix Lestrange all by herself.

Well, she'd been wrong. Bellatrix had massacred her to a point there literally wasn't enough left of her to feed the birds with. Honestly, she quite enjoyed watching the auror's expression turn from a self-assured smirk to a horrified expression which seemed to scream 'oh shit!' the moment the duel started.

The dark witch stole another look at the sleeping Hermione. Peaceful. Blissfully innocent. Certainly a complete farce of a witch, but the young woman had plenty of other qualities. Almost without thinking, Bellatrix reached over to run a hand through her brown hair.

The girl responded, murmuring some unintelligible words before stretching and tightening her grip around Bellatrix's waist. The dark witch let out a sigh: she shouldn't encourage the girl, even while sleeping.

Strong romantic feelings indeed. She supposed she should feel flattered: a beautiful much younger woman who, despite her delusions in flights of fantasy, was obviously intelligent and was showing such an interest in her.

Perhaps if Hermione hadn't been a mudblood, things could have been different.

Bellatrix turned her gaze towards the ceiling. It seemed oddly lower than it had been, and the walls of the shack felt as if they were closing in on her. She'd often felt like this in Azkaban, unsurprisingly enough, but at least after her escape there was something she could do about it.

Hermione mewed in sleepy protest when Bellatrix disentangled herself from her and managed to slip out of bed before the girl could grab hold of her again. After throwing the duvet back over the sleeping girl, she silently walked over to the front door after snatching her wand and a smoke from the table. The summer night was warm enough to step out in her nightshift, though she did step into her boots: bare feet on cold stone always brought back bad memories.

Since her shack was located near the bailey, the first staircase up the wall was right next to it. The dark witch slowly climbed the staircase and leaned on the first crenellation she found on the parapet. The cigarette found her way to her lips. A good drag and a puff later and she felt a bit more relaxed.

It was a beautiful night out today, much like it had been yesterday. From this vantage point, she had a lovely view of the lake and the forests beyond, clouded in the dark of night. Stars shone brightly, the trees moved by the slightest of breezes. Yesterday, she had been ready to end it all, but today... today she wondered about the future.

Could she cope? She had come here with nothing. The Black family name, which she still proudly wore, was hardly relevant here. She didn't have any access to her family's previous riches which, if Andie was to be believed, weren't all that much to begin with in this world. She had no cause. No Dark Lord to follow. No purpose.

That last one stung the most.

What would she do? What _could_ she even do? Technically, she didn't even have a legally valid Hogwarts diploma for this world.

Even so, it was moot. She felt rudderless. Directionless.

Stay on as Hogwarts caretaker? Perhaps. It was a steady source of income which she desperately needed and the additional benefit of a nice home was certainly nothing to sneeze at. But truth be told, the work itself was completely and utterly beneath her: overqualified didn't even begin to describe it. For now, it would have to do, however.

Of course, coming here with nothing also meant she was without her fierce reputation as a dangerous, wanted witch. Nobody here would have any reason to hunt her how or stick her into Azkaban and she certainly wasn't planning on providing such a reason. If anything, she was riding the coat-tails of someone else's reputation: her rather foolishly heroic younger self from this world.

That wouldn't do: she needed to make her own name in this world and not steal that of someone else. Question was how.

A clean break.

A new life.

Some would kill for such a chance. But was she up for the task?

She finished her cigarette and flicked it into the darkness, when she became aware that she was not alone. The sound of panting and nails on stone sounded as Hermione's dog climbed the staircase. Bellatrix figured she must have left the front door open when she left the shack. The dog sat down next to her, licking his chops as dogs do.

"So," Bellatrix snorted. "What do you think I should do, hm?"

The dog cocked its head sideways for a moment before letting out a brisque 'arf!',

"I'm going to assume that's dog-speak for 'give me food'," Bellatrix muttered. "That's all you dogs ever think about."

'Arf!' sounded again.

She reached over to scratch the dog behind the ear. Apparently, dogs liked that just as much as food.

"Life is so easy for you, don't you know?" Bellatrix spoke softly. "You get food every day, get to sleep on your mistress' bed, scratches behind the ear whenever you want and you even managed to train Hermione so well that she cleans up your shit in a little bag whenever she walks you. How do you do it?"

"Arf!"

"Hah," laughed Bellatrix. "Now I know why Sirius liked being a dog so much. I wonder if he actually humped other dogs. Seems like something he would do."

"Arf?"

"You're right," Bellatrix's admitted. "I shouldn't insult you by comparing you to Sirius. You're far more pleasant company."

The dog's demeanor changed suddenly, backing away slowly and letting out a low whine. "Was it something I said?" Bellatrix frowned, but when she felt the air around her grow significantly colder, she got a good feeling what was happening. She rolled her eyes when she heard odd sounds coming from below her on the other side of the parapet. It was a sound she had heard many times before: the rattling of chains.

"Chains?" Bellatrix raised an eyebrow at this dire use of ghost-cliches. "Really?"

Ghost-Bellatrix glided through the darkness as if floating in water. She appeared on the other side of the crennelation right in front her, almost face-to-face. Instantly, the girl's face split in two, causing a mass of tentacles and mandibles to spew forth from her ghostly visage, twitching and oozing foul smelling slime while an inhuman shriek akin to the sound of thousands of cats meowing backwards pierced her ears.

A stiffened Bellatrix felt her jaw trembling. "I'll admit," she gulped. "That was a good one."

Ghost-Bellatrix's face assumed its usual shape, this time smiling. "Thank you. I've been practicing that one in front of the mirror. Consider it payback for what you said to me earlier tonight."

Bellatrix nodded. "Fair enough, ghost," she said, looking over her shoulder back to the shack just underneath the parapet and being very surprised that Hermione slept through that shriek, judging by the way nobody came out of the front door.

"Telepathy," said Ghost-Bellatrix, and for the first time the dark witch noticed her mouth wasn't moving. "It's a ghost thing. Don't question it. But _you_ on the other hand, need to watch the decibels. No shouting."

"No promises," said Bellatrix. "You scared off the dog, by the way."

The ghost girl pursed her lips. "That happens more often."

"Why are you here?"

"Why do you think?"

"You can't haunt me into changing, ghost," Bellatrix crossed her arms.

Ghost-Bellatrix nodded. "I didn't come back for _you_. I came back because I like Hermione. She's always been nice to me. And I have to tell you, I've been haunting school grounds for the past thirty years and I've seen love flourish so many times you wouldn't believe it. I recognize it when I see it. Hell, I've played matchmaker more times than you could count."

"Oh, Merlin, not another one..." Bellatrix groaned, folding her body forward the rest onto the crennelation.

"I'm not matchmaking right now. Just giving you a good shake. You've been a follower all your life, miss high-and-mighty!" Ghost-Bellatrix pressed. "And when nobody was around to tell you want to do, you were ready to throw yourself right off the tower."

"It was poison! I used poison!" Bellatrix hissed.

"What's the difference?!" Ghost-Bella let out an exasperated sigh. "Look, I know what it's like to feel alone. When I came back as a ghost, nobody was more scared that I was..."

Bellatrix snapped her head up, blind rage in her eyes as she confronted her younger self. "I... am... _not_... scared!" she hissed angrily.

Ghost-Bellatrix met her gaze, her voice taking on an unearthly-dark tone in a way that it deeply unsettled Bellatrix: it was not unlike the dark whisperings of a dementor. "YES... YOU... ARE!"

Both her words and the way the ghost girl spoke them cut down to the very depths of her soul. Instantly, the girl's voice turned back to normal. "But you know what? I squared my shoulders and made the best of it. Because that's what Blacks do."

Bellatrix snorted, grateful that the ghost has stopped taunting her at least. "You sound like my father."

" _Our_ father," Ghost-Bella smiled. "Point is, if I can do it, why can't you?"

"That won't change the fact that inferior blood courses through Hermione's veins," Bellatrix raised her chin imperiously, daring the ghost girl to challenge her.

Ghost-Bella wasn't impressed, however. "That's it? That's your hang-up? Right. I want you to look me in the eye and tell me, is Hermione any less smart because of it? And don't bother lying because I will know!"

Bellatrix looked away. Her mind painting a picture of the sleeping girl. Try as she might, she searched for a valid argument to come up with a negative answer, but could find nothing. She turned back to her ghostly counterpart and looked her in the eye. "No," she spoke truthfully.

"Is she any less brave?"

"No."

"Any less capable?"

"No."

"Or ambitious?"

"No."

Bellatrix was growing more and more defeated with every 'no' uttered, while the ghost girl's grin ever widened.

"Is she any less caring?"

"No... if anything, she's more."

A smug looking Ghost-Bella grossed her arms as she levitated a few inches off the ground. "Her heart's big enough for a wretch like you, that's for certain."

"You're pushing your luck again, ghost!" Bellatrix glowered.

"Or you'll do what, exactly?" the ghost-girl winked. "I'm already dead, remember?"

"I'll find a way," Bellatrix smirked. "Maybe fetter you to a slab of stone at the bottom of the North Sea."

The ghost girl ignored her. "You're clinging on to your old life. I did too. But at some point, it's time to let go. I know, it's ironic how a bound spirit who literally can't move on is lecturing you on moving on. You know what I think? I think you've already lost your belief in magical purity. You're just denying it at this point."

"But I can't give it up!" Bellatrix hissed, squeezing her eyes tight to fight back the tears. She failed, however, and tears started rolling down her cheek. "Don't you understand! I just can't! I've lost _everything!_ This... this belief is the last part of me which makes me _me_!"

Uncertainties.

Uncertainties were the worst. Back in her own world, she had a Dark Lord. She had a cause. She had purpose. All certainties. Here? All was gone, except for one: her blood was pure! Her blood was superior. That hadn't changed. That _couldn't_ change. And now this idiotic ghost girl was asking her to give that up too?!

And for what? Some slip of a girl who... who... had cared enough to stand with her on top of the Astronomy tower during one of her darkest moments, trying to convince her that her life had meaning and that she shouldn't give it up and had shared with her the deepest pain in her life.

Try as she might, she couldn't bring herself to hate her for it. She couldn't bring herself to hate her at all. That was the worst of it: she was desperately clinging onto the last certainty in her life which was now threatening to slip away from her.

Desperation crept in her voice as she pleaded to the ghost girl in front of her. "If I lose the last part of what makes me me, then... what's going to be _left_?! Who will I be?!"

Tears started flow. "Who am I?" she whispered softly into the darkness.

Ghost-Bellatrix gave her a look of complete sympathy. A warm smile came over her. "Someone who has a chance to find happiness with a muggle-born."

Immediately, the ghost girl faded away, leaving the night to regain a bit of warmth. Bellatrix was left standing there, crying in the darkness while her body shook from the release of emotion.

"Bella?" sounded a soft voice coming from below. She turned around to see Hermione standing in the door-frame, looking around while holding a lantern. "Bella, where are you?!" she shouted with more urgency.

Hermione. She'd woken up. Apparently, she had spotted her up on the parapet and came rushing up the stairs, judging by the sound of the patting of bare feet on stone. Part of Bellatrix didn't want the younger witch to see her like this. This was a moment of abject weakness, something to be embarrassed about. But really, there was no avoiding it. She slowly turned around, tear-streaked face and all.

"Bella, are you alright?" Hermione asked, still clad in her pink pajamas.

Bellatrix gave her the slightest of nods. It wasn't hard to follow Hermione's gaze, going from her to the crennelation to the darkness beyond the wall. A worried look. A stiffened jaw.

"I'm not going to jump, if that's what you were wondering," said Bellatrix, sighing a little.

"I wasn't," Hermione responded.

The girl wasn't a very good liar. Still, jumping almost twelve meters done to die in a bone-shattering fall was no way for a prideful witch to end: Hermione should have realized that.

The girl stood next to her, placing a warm hand on her shoulder. "Came here to think?"

Bellatrix nodded. "I don't know. I just don't know what to do."

"You can do anything you want," Hermione smiled.

"What if I don't know what I want?"

"Then you figure out what you want."

Bellatrix pursed her lips. "I want to live."

A flash of relief crossed Hermione's face. "That's... the best of starts, really."

It was true enough. She felt a bit foolish about yesterday. A lapse in judgment: pride overruling reason. Hermione'd been right: this world was not so awful that she'd prefer death over it.

"Everything else... that's still in flux," Bellatrix sighed.

"There's something I do want, though," Hermione half-smiled. "My feet are starting to get really cold! Could we go back inside please?"

Bellatrix let out a brief cackle at this sudden change of subject and mood. Together, they walked back into the shack. By now, the dog had also found his way back into the shack, as he was resting near the sofa. Hermione found herself sitting on the side of the bed, rubbing her cold feet warm with the duvet.

Bellatrix rolled her eyes. "Next time you decide to chase after me, put on your shoes first."

Hermione looked up at her. "That's wasn't exactly my priority when I suddenly found you missing," she spoke with a concerned frown. "Seriously, you can't just take off like that and not expect me to worry for you. Not after what happened yesterday!"

The way Hermione looked at her. Wide, soulful brown eyes brimming with... concern. For her.

And it was as if she'd been hit by a bolt of lightning. Hermione was the first to welcome her to this crapsack of a world. The first to care, truly care, about her in a long time. Bellatrix thought back to her fellow Death Eaters back in her own world... sad, pathetic wretches, all of them. Hermione... Hermione was better than _any_ of them!

Pure-blood pride.

Pure-blood Superiority.

Magic is might.

In the end, these were nothing more than empty slogans.

Iron-clad beliefs she had been raised with, considered unshakable truths even. But what had it brought her? Really brought her? They had torn her family apart. They had bound her life to a husband she never loved. They had caused her to spend the best years of her life on that awful rock. Had they given her power? Maybe. But had they given her happiness? The answer to that question left a bitter taste in her mouth.

Bellatrix steeled herself. "I think I finally know what I want," she spoke softly.

Having a life filled with uncertainties was beyond terrifying, but perhaps she could trade her last remaining certainty for another. She would only have to be brave enough to grasp out to take it.

"Hm?" asked Hermione, the girl looking at her expectantly. Her feet apparently warm enough, she rose from the bed.

"I want _you_ ," Bellatrix pressed. Funny, really. She hadn't expected to suddenly be this nervous.

Brown eyes spread open wide as if Hermione couldn't believe what she was hearing. Her mouth opened as if to speak, but no words came forth.

Her conviction renewed, Bellatrix had always been someone who went for her goal with the utmost of zeal. All uncertainty gone, she flashed her now target the sultriests of grins. "I want you more than _anything_!"

Without any further thought, Bellatrix crossed the distance, wrapped her arms around the younger witch and gently pressed her lips against hers. Hermione returned first the embrace and then the kiss. The dark witch closed her eyes and reveled in the sensations of feeling Hermione's hands roving over her back, her shoulders. Swooning when Hermione parted her lips with her tongue and kissed her back with a hunger she had never experienced before.

Their deep kiss turned into butterfly kisses while the two witches pressed their foreheads together. A few moments later, they laughed while still holding on to each other. Bellatrix at her own foolishness and Hermione from sheer joy.

"About bloody time," sounded Hermione's throaty voice, causing Bellatrix to chuckle. Surprise came when Hermione spun her around and shoved her backwards by the shoulders. With a yelp, Bellatrix landed bum-first on the bed and fell further to her back. Instantly, Hermione pounced upon her like a pink-clad panther, pressing down upon her, first kissing her tears away and then latching on to the nape of her neck.

"Oh, Bella, I want you too," sounded Hermione's lust-filled whispers in between kisses. "I fucking want you so much!"

To this very moment, even when treated with the warmest of kisses, Bellatrix was struggling with her last remaining doubts. What was she doing? What on Earth was she doing?!

Her breath caught in her throat when Hermione straddled her, letting her hands and nimble fingers slide over her chest, finally to rest on her breasts. It felt fantastic, even through the fabric of her nightshift. The younger witch gave her a sultry smile and slowly started to unbutton her pajama shirt. In the pale light of the moon, Hermione exposed herself to her.

Sweet Merlin. Hermione had a toned athlete's body and was proud of it and her creamy white skin looked so inviting. Her breath catching in her throat, Bellatrix let the tips of her fingers trace the slight musculature of Hermione's abs and she came to the swift conclusion that Rugnarok certainly had its benefits. Apparently, this didn't go fast enough for Hermione's tastes: the younger which took hold of Bellatrix's hands and lay the flats of them onto her stomach, guiding her movements briefly to slide her hands over her sides and her abs. Hermione's intention now clear to her, the dark witch eagerly explored Hermione's body. A smiling Hermione let out a brief moan when Bellatrix's eager hands eventually found her breasts and gently cupped them.

The young witch draped herself over her again, pressing her soft body into her. Bellatrix felt her breath catch in her throat with arousal.

This was what she wanted, wasn't it? To _enjoy_ Hermione? And so far it was better than she could have hoped for.

She grasped the back of Hermione's head, running fingers through her soft brown hair as she kissed her young lover with mad desire, her free hand disappearing down the back of Hermione's pink pajama bottoms.

No underwear.

Cheeky.

Hermione obviously enjoyed that, judging from the way she moaned into her mouth. The young witch reached down to free herself from her pajama bottoms, kicking them off swiftly and making them fly off the bed.

However, Bellatrix's one-piece nightshift proved to be a bit of a problem. The young witch struggled with finding a way to undo Bellatrix from what was, essentially, a long dress while the dark witch was lying down.

"How does... wait... I think I got it... Wait... no..." Hermione muttered as she had managed to get her head and one arm caught underneath her nightshift, while her free arm was flopping about uselessly. Though she rather enjoyed the feeling of Hermione's cheek and soft hair brushing over he belly, the dark witch found it rather comical and let out a brief laugh.

"Oh, very funny!" sounded the muffled and flustered voice of Hermione. "How does this thing work?! Where's the buttons?!"

"I doesn't have any," said Bellatrix, running a hand over Hermione's cloth-covered head. "It goes over my head."

"Argh!" Hermione kept tugging. "Stupid bloody nightshift! Stop making me feel like a virgin!"

"Stop struggling or I won't be able to get it off," Bellatrix demanded. Thankfully, Hermione let go of her frustrations for a bit long enough for the dark witch to sit up and free herself from the offending article of clothing and, like Hermione, exposing herself in the pale moonlight.

In the last few months, Bellatrix had regained much of her former beauty. But that didn't change the fact that there was an age difference between the two of them. Bellatrix was a proud woman, but couldn't help but feel a touch insecure. Such worries were for naught, however, as Hermione gave her an appraising look. "You're beautiful," Hermione whispered, lust clear on her voice..

"So are you," Bellatrix's voice was a husk. Merlin above, she wanted this just as much as Hermione did.

She took the young witch in her arms and another hungry kiss followed as their bodies pressed together. Skin on skin. Mouth to mouth. Breasts to breasts. She felt Hermione's hands on her skin, her breasts, her hair, her back and repaid the young witch in kind. Whatever old revulsion, old prejudice she still had, she pushed as far away in the back of her mind as she could. Today, she would not think about the old pure-blood ideals.

She didn't think of them when Hermione kissed her way down her stomach. She did not think of them when she felt Hermione's soft hair between her thighs. And she certainly didn't think of them while overcome with pleasure from every delicious lash of Hermione's tongue, or every heavenly thrust of Hermione's fingers.

And she would pay her young lover back in kind. Competence deserved rewarding, after all, and by the way Hermione had just made her world spin and come crashing down upon her, she could not let the young witch think she could not keep up with her. With a yelp, Hermione was rolled to her back and lavished with both kisses and soft bites. Pleasure and pain were extensions of each other, after all, but Bellatrix made sure not to overdo it. Thankfully, the gasps and moans Hermione let out when Bellatrix gently bit down on the skin of her neck, her lips and a nipple let her know that she was doing just right.

Nails dug into Hermione's skin when Bellatrix treated Hermione to a severe tongue lashing of her own, chuckling when she felt two hands grasp through her dark hair, pulling her closer into her pelvis.

Together their rolled on the bed, kissing, fondling and fighting for dominance. Pleasure exploded through both their bodies, the release of a tension which had been building up ever since their first meeting.

Hermione was mud. Bellatrix was pure.

And it didn't matter one fucking bit.

She didn't think that would feel so... liberating.

Spent and panting, the two witches lay together in the moonlight under the comfortable duvet of their bed. Bellatrix on her back with the younger witch on her side, pressing against her. Hermione lay tracing patterns around Bellatrix's bellybutton with her fingertips while the dark witch was stroking her long brown hair.

"I hope you realize I'm your girlfriend now," Hermione whispered, eyes still closed while a wide victorious grin spread quickly.

The dark witch let out a brief throaty cackle. "I think I gave you quite a definitive answer."

"Better than any words," Hermione opened her eyes and shifted to kiss her lover on the lips.

"Where do we go from here?" asked Bellatrix, genuinely not knowing the answer.

"This is all new for me too," said Hermione. "But I'm hoping to find out."

"Hm," Bellatrix replied softly. "I was hoping at least one of us would know something about how a proper relationship works."

"Maybe it's just like a friendship, but with more cuddling, kissing and sex?" Hermione put a finger to her lips. "Oh, and just so you know, I'll be expecting lots more sex from this point onward, Bella."

"Minx," Bellatrix said.

"Hey, sex is fun! I like sex!" Hermione nodded before shifting back to lie down next to her lover.

"Been moving from girl to girl so long, looking for god knows what," said Hermione softly. "Filling in the emptiness inside me or some dumb cliche like that. Maybe I was just looking for that special someone. And I'm happy that I finally found her."

"And I'm happy that I've finally wised up and stopped trying to push you away," said Bellatrix. "I was always too stubborn for my own good."

"Oh, I just remembered!" Hermione smiled. "You were married, right? Any tips?"

Bellatrix grimaced a little: now that she was here with a sweet girl lying in her arms, that bumhead Rodolphus was the last person she wanted to be reminded of. "I don't think my marriage is a good example. We lived in the same house, but slept in separate rooms except for, well, wifely duties. Like I said, a child was expected. Can't say I enjoyed it very much."

"Oh..." Hermione's face fell. "That makes my silly comment about expecting lots of sex suddenly a lot less funny. I'm so sorry. Look, what I said earlier. If you don't want to, I won't force you into anything."

"Hah!" Bellatrix grinned and leaned in for a quick brush of lips. "With you, I actually want to."

"I'm glad," Hermione smiled. "Let's stop talking now. I want to snuggle!"

"Hah, your wish is my command," the dark witch chuckled and got comfortable. She was certainly not adverse to snuggles.


	13. Metamorphosis

When Bellatrix woke up, she enjoyed the feeling of the light of the sun on her face as it poured in through the window. The bed was soft and she was warm... very, very warm. The source of which was Hermione whom was neatly draped over her while being held. The girl's breathing was steady and rhythmic while she still slept. Cuter still was that her normally immaculately brushed long brown hair was fuzzy and bristly.

Odder still, Bellatrix had very warm feet. She raised her head a little, only to find that at one point during the night, Hermione's dog had decided to jump onto the bed and now rested at the food end. She tried to reclaim her feet and push the dog away, but other than a slight grunt the sleeping beast never responded or budged.

The movement, however, did cause Hermione to stir slightly. "Hmmmmm," she groaned softly as her eyes fluttered open and then gave her the warmest of smiles. "Good morning, Bella," she spoke with a sleepy voice.

"Good morning, miss bed-head," Bellatrix smiled as the two witches shared a quick kiss.

"Hmm, last night wasn't a dream," Hermione closed her eyes and snuggled closer to Bellatrix. "I never want to get up."

"Same," said Bellatrix. "I'm perfectly fine where I am."

Almost immediately, her growling stomach protested. "Hm, any more of those crisps?"

"Haggis flavoured potato chips and iron bru. The breakfast of champions," Hermione spoke with closed eyes and smiling mouth. "But, sadly, we ate everything yesterday."

"Oh. I suppose we should get up if we want to eat."

"I'm quite happy to starve right here," Hermione replied. "I suppose we could go to the petrol station again, buy some sandwiches."

"What?" Bellatrix blinked. "Are you taking the piss?!"

Hermione giggled at her own joke. "Probably not. Those things are floating in so many preservatives they'll probably turn us into mummies."

"There's a tea shop in town," said Bellatrix. "I'd certainly fancy a jam-filled scone."

"I suppose," Hermione suddenly grinned. "Race you to the shower?"

Ghost-Bella had been quite right: Bellatrix certainly enjoyed being soaped up by Hermione.

Just as Hermione certainly enjoying having her back pressed against the shower tiles while being pleasured.

* * *

The tea shop in town was quite nice. Cozy yet colorful and filled with smells so appealing that it sent their stomachs growling instantly. In fact, the only downside was that the tea shop wasn't dog-friendly. Spock's lead had been tied to a post, leaving the dog to make sad eyes at the tea shop while a guilty Hermione looked at him ever so often with the promise of bringing him a scone later.

Their ordered tea and scones were quickly delivered. The tea was delicious, as were the scones. Once their breakfast was finished, Hermione reached over to grasp both of her hands.

"I'm glad you're still here. With me," Hermione whispered.

"Like I said, you've made your point. I won't try again, pet," Bellatrix whispered, squeezing back. "Besides, I now have a very compelling reason to continue on living."

Hermione gave her a silly grin, even blushing a little. "I'm glad. I've been thinking, hm?"

"When did you have time to think?" Bellatrix chuckled. "Didn't I tire you out enough last night? Pish posh, what's a poor woman to think? I think it'll be right back to bed with you when we get home, you little minx."

"Bella, I'm being serious!" Hermione laughed. "Though that doesn't sound half bad, really."

"I should hope not!" Bellatrix retorted.

"Bella, you're such a tease!"

"Right," Bellatrix smiled, taking on a more serious tone. "What have you been thinking about, pet?"

Hermione thought for a moment. "What we talked about yesterday. You know, at the top of the astronomy tower. I think I've figured out a way of giving your life meaning again. If you can't make your mark on your own world, why don't you make your mark on ours?"

Intrigued, Bellatrix cocked her head sideways. "What do you mean?"

"The teleportation experiment!" Hermione explained. "Help us finish it! I know, I just know that, with your help, we can make it work. Help us change the wizarding world forever."

Bellatrix gave her a skeptical look. "You don't even want to be a witch!"

"I don't have to be a witch to know I'll be changing the world. And the wizarding world is just as much part of my life as the muggle world, like I said. And besides, you expect Lucius to weld those contraptions together? He's more likely to set his own robes on fire! He needs all of us."

The dark witch rubbed her chin. That honestly didn't sound like a bad idea. She'd be able to spend the summer with her family _and_ Hermione. The teleportation experiment itself would be a good secondary reason to help out. Merlin knows, she certainly wanted to spend more time with Hermione.

"Why not," Bellatrix thought for a moment. "Wait, didn't you say that Hogwarts had a lot of expensive measuring equipment Lucius couldn't afford?"

Hermione gasped when a triumphant Bellatrix held up the Master Key.

"Right, magical disseminator," said Hermione as she read from the clipboard which contained the list of necessary items she had written up. The Hogwarts storage area for the magical measuring equipment could hardly be called spacious and the wooden boxes the equipment was in were randomly stacked on top of each other in racks. Furthermore, they weren't exactly properly labeled. This was, unfortunately, taking a bit longer than either of them would have liked. Still, with Riddle and Hagrid out on Ben Nevis, there was no one at Hogwarts whom could catch them.

"Hm, I think this is it," said Bellatrix. "Box 36!"

"Noted," said Hermione, checking it off her list while Bellatrix used her wand to levitate the box onto the trolley.

"Next!" Bellatrix called out.

"Annular confinement beam generator," Hermione said. "I remember that one. Should be box 108."

"108... 108... 108... got it!" said Bellatrix and quickly added it to the trolley. "Next!"

"Vortex resonator. We need the dark matter version, not the anti-matter one," said Hermione.

"Dark matter... dark matter... dark... Ah! Here it is," said Bellatrix. "Next!"

"Last one on the list," said Hermione. "Machyon invertor."

"Got to invert those machyons somehow," Bellatrix muttered to herself as she sorted through another rack of boxes. "Got it."

Bellatrix pushed the trolley out of the storeroom and quickly locked the door behind her. This was the third trip the two witches had made and once again, they made their way to the courtyard where one of Hogwarts' large two by six meter Persian cargo carriers was waiting. Bellatrix unloaded the boxes from the trolley and levitated them on top of the boxes already loaded onto the carpet.

"Remember to spread the weight evenly," said Hermione while collecting a blue tarp. Once Bellatrix was done stacking the boxes proper, the young witch threw the tarp over the cargo. The tarp's hooks latched on to the rings on the side of the carpet and the tarp resized itself to perfectly fit right over its cargo.

"How much weight can this thing handle?" Bellatrix asked as she regarded the rather large blue-tarp covered bump on top of the carpet.

"Considerably more than this," said Hermione. "Wizards use this model rug to move house. We'll be fine."

Aside from the cargo, Hermione put her much smaller rolled up personal carpet onto the rug near the tarp, as well as a travel bag filled with snacks and drinks and a radio for travel music. "These cargo rugs practically fly themselves," said Hermione. "Slow as molasses though. It's going to take us about six hours to get to Wiltshire. Come along, Spock."

Hermione's dog, chew toy in mouth, sauntered onto the rug and promptly collapsed. Both Hermione and Bellatrix boarded. Truth be told, Bellatrix had no idea how to fly a flying carpet, but Hermione seemed to be handling this big oversized rug as expertly as she did smaller rugs as it took the skies. With wand in hand, the young witch altered the rug's course and set for the south. It would be a long journey.

Still, the rug was far more stable and steady that she would have imagined, so the journey would not be unpleasant. She put her legs over the front end of the carpet and already Hermione was leaning into her. She wrapped one arm around her girl's waist and lay her head on Hermione's shoulder. With her free hand, she stroked the sleeping dog's head.

Honestly, she'd never, ever imagined being in this position when she had first come to this world: sitting on a carpet about a hundred feet off the ground with one arm wrapped around a girl and one arm reaching out to pet a dog.

The radio was playing some channel called 'hits from the 80s'. Considering she had spent most of the 80's in prison, she didn't actually know any of the songs.

Indeed, not at all an unpleasant way to travel.

* * *

As Bellatrix was still humming along with a song about someone who apparently always feels like somebody's watching him and he has no privacy. Hermione obviously found this amusing and gave her a quick squeeze. They'd been traveling for hours now, but the weather had been fine and they had enjoyed eachother's company.

That is not that say that it wasn't a relief when Hermione pointed out Malfoy manor was in sight. Hermione took control of the rug and steered it towards the manor grounds, intending to land near Lucius' lab. By now, Draco had apparently already spotted them and was waving them down from the ground.

Once the carpet had set down, Bellatrix let out a groan of relief once she was able to get up and stretch her legs a little. Seriously, though the start of the journey had been pleasant enough, after the first hour it got old really fast and she couldn't wait until she helped get the floo network invented, hopefully sooner than later.

Draco and Hermione shared a brief hug, causing the dark witch to stare daggers at the boy for a moment. Draco didn't seem to notice, however. "Ah, glad you're both here," said Draco. "What happened? And what's with all those boxes on the carpet?"

"I'll explain once we're inside, Draco," said Hermione as she removed the tarp from over the boxes while her dog rushed over to greet Draco. "Help me unload these boxes into the lab, would you?"

Thankfully, it didn't take long for the boxes to be moved inside and for them to find comfort in the manor's living room, where the family had been gathered. Even Andromeda was there, which explained why she wasn't in when they'd been to her house at Hogsmeade. Best of all, she had been baking crumpets in the manor's kitchen. Perfect to go along with the tea Narcissa had poured.

"We received your letter," said Lucius.

"And we were all quite worried," Narcissa added.

Bellatrix let her fingers grasp the fabric of her dress as the events of the previous days played out in her mind. She and Hermione had decided not to tell the full truth of what had happened: the suicide attempt had been a deeply personal affair and now that the matter was closed, the dark witch didn't want to re-open it. Still, it didn't make this any easier, but perhaps there was another way out.

"When I looked through the window between worlds," Bellatrix started. "I saw things which greatly disturbed me. It... became clear to me that the war I'd been fighting had been lost."

"Oh, dear," Lucius replied. "That explains your outburst."

"I'm sorry to have wasted your time," said Bellatrix. "The fact is that I no longer have a home to return to. If I do, I will not be safe. So... I'll be staying here. In this world."

A joyous gasp sounded from Andromeda. "Oh, that's wonderful!" she jumped up and took both of Bellatrix's hands while smiling brightly, only to realize what she had just said. "Uhm, I... sorry I just blurted that out, didn't I?" she spoke softly. "I didn't mean to be insensitive."

Bellatrix couldn't help but smile a little. It was actually nice to be welcome somewhere. "It's... alright," said Bellatrix.

"Are you sure that the war was lost in your world?" Lucius asked. "Maybe you simply misinterpreted what you saw?"

"Lucius!" Andromeda hissed, angry at him potentially ruining her elder sister's plan of staying in their world.

Bellatrix shook her head. "I'm quite sure," she said, watching Andromeda as relief washed over her face. "Again, it's fine," Bellatrix offered a warm smile to Hermione, whom in turn offered her a warm smile back. "Hermione's helped me come to terms with it. Somewhat at least."

Luna, whom had been quiet until this point, cocked her head a little and studied the two. Then, she simply stood up and proclaimed her findings to the world. "They're together now. A couple."

A hush came over the gathered family as all heads turned first towards Luna and then to the freshly announced couple.

"Well," laughed Hermione and treated her love to a kiss on the cheek. "At least we don't have to figure out a way how to announce our new-found happiness to our friends and family now, do we?"

"I suppose not," said Bellatrix as she took a moment to ruffle her girlfriend's immaculately brushed brown hair.

"Hey!" Hermione protested with a sly grin. "Not the hair!"

Andromeda was the first to congratulate them. "I just knew it!" she first hugged Hermione and then Bellatrix. "I knew there was a spark between the two of you. I'm so happy for you both."

Draco bit his lip as he tried to wrap his mind around what he was seeing. "Wait. Hold on. What just happened?" he scratched his head. "My trans-dimensional aunt is now involved with one of my best friends?"

"That's exactly it," Luna proclaimed.

"And you just picked this up just by looking at them?" Draco blinked. "I tell you, you're a lot like your mum."

Instantly, Luna's expression darkened considerably. "You take that back! I'm nothing like my mum!" she said, giving Draco a slug to his shoulder which was apparently magically enhanced.

"Draco!" Narcissa admonished. "That's not a very nice thing to say to Luna!"

"I mean her mums' divination skills not her personality!" Draco pressed. "I'm sorry, Schwarzenegger, alright?"

Luna's expression softened and she followed up her slug with a soft pat on the shoulder.

Bellatrix frowned. "I get the feeling I'm missing some context here."

Hermione squeezed her hand. "Pandora Lovegood is a sore subject in our household. Truth be told, Luna's mum is a complete nutcase."

"Yeah," said Draco. "You should tell her the story about the time she tried to sell you to a roving band of gypsies."

"Alright," Luna replied. "One time, my mum tried to sell me to a roving band of gypsies."

Bellatrix was expecting to hear more, but Luna fell silent after that. "That's it?" Bellatrix asked.

"Not much else to the story, really. Except that I've been legally emancipated from my mum since I was eleven."

"How so?" Bellatrix asked.

"Because my mum tried to sell me to a roving band of gypsies, which isn't a very nice thing to do," said Luna. "Try to keep up."

"Right," said Bellatrix, deciding to forgo further inquiries. "We should talk about those boxes we've brought from Hogwarts."

"Bella has decided to help us with out experiment!" said Hermione. "Those boxes contain all the measuring equipment from Hogwarts we need."

"Now that I have my hands free, I'm ready to help you however I can," said Bellatrix, meaning it. It would make her girl happy. It would make her family happy. And, perhaps, this accomplishment would make _her_ happy as well.

Meanwhile, from Lucius' expression, it looked as if the poor man was having an aneurysm, sputtering words of thanks and plans for test with all of it mixing together in a jumbled sentence. "I... I must examine and calibrate the equipment."

"Lucius!" Narcissa admonished. "Drink your tea first. And don't even think about skipping dinner tonight!"

"But... but... but... calibrations!"

"Calibrate dinner!"

"CALIBRATIONS!" Lucius replied and spurted off towards his lab as if he was a particularly excited whippet.

Draco laughed under his breath. "I'll head over to the lab make sure dad doesn't accidentally drop something potentially explosive in his excitement."

"I'll go upstairs to unpack before I'm dragged into the lab," Hermione laughed and took her backpack upstairs, dog in tow.

"Andie," sighed Narcissa as she realized she was fighting a losing battle. "Will you help me in the kitchen?"

That only left Bellatrix and Luna standing in the drawing room. The two witched looked at each other for a moment. The dark witch crossed her arms, being the first to speak. "What?" she demanded. "No glares?"

"You've changed," spoke Luna, giving her that odd look which seemed to be staring right into her soul. It made Bellatrix more than a little uncomfortable.

"Have I?" Bellatrix asked, more of herself than of Luna.

Luna almost smiled. "It's Hermione. It's what she does. She fixes people."

"She... fixes people?" Bellatrix asked.

Luna took a chair and motioned for the dark witch to do the same.

"My father died when I was very young. My mother was mental and abusive," Luna said, trying to hide a flash of pain in her eyes. "When I first came to Hogwarts, I was alone, I was miserable and I hated everything and everyone."

"This was after the..."

"Gypsy-thing, yes. And the emancipation," said Luna. "Enter Hermione Granger. She was thirteen whole years of sheer brown-haired annoyance. She made it her mission in life to become my friend. Oh, I hated her guts. I thought she was a vapid, flighty airhead. I chased her off, I called her names even hexed her so badly she had to spend a few days at the infirmary. But she never gave up. She broke through my shield, got me to crawl out of my shell, helped me enjoy my life again. Narcissa has kindly offered me a place in the family as an adopted Malfoy, but I decided to keep the Lovegood name. It didn't seem right to drop my father's name."

"I can understand that," said Bellatrix. "A name is powerful. A name is identity. It's why I still proudly bear the name 'Black'."

"Draco was in a similar state," continued Luna. "Lucius has always been an inventor and I'm sad to say that Weasley was right: he _had_ squandered his family's wealth in search of discovery, but never achieved the success he wanted. Back then Lucius was at the lowest point at his life. Narcissa saw the estate decline and her husband fall into depression and while she truly loves him, she couldn't cope with it any longer. With his parents on the brink of divorce, you can imagine how Draco was handling it. Just as with me, Hermione was determined to be his friend. Now Draco was actually looking for a friend, so it went easier than with me. However, it was during a visit to the manor that Hermione pointed out something. You see, in order to make it easier for him to keep notes, Lucius created a self-inking quill. He didn't think very much of it, since he was focused on big discoveries, like teleportation and failed to see just how handy a self-inking quill was until Hermione pointed it out. He patented it and it gave Lucius his first success and some recognition as an inventor. Saved Lucius and Narcissa's marriage too."

Bellatrix nodded in approval. Hermione had done a lot of nice things for 'her' family in this world.

"You see, Hermione doesn't have a family. But she makes her own. By fixing people. Hermione is the glue that keeps all of us together," said Luna. "Thing is, she doesn't really know how to fix _herself_."

"I wasn't aware that Hermione needed fixing," said Bellatrix.

"Doesn't she?" Luna replied. "She never got over the death of her father. She's far too naive, is shocked when someone stabs her in the back for her troubles and never ever learns from the experience. She doesn't know what she wants to do with her life. Oh, she says she wants to be a muggle, but deep down she isn't sure she's made the right choice. She takes flight into fantasy tales to escape reality whenever things get too hard for her to deal with. She's always wanted to be romanced, but just as easily throws herself into a random girl's arms for a bout of casual sex and then is surprised her heart gets broken. And... she doesn't listen when friends try to talk to her about all the things I've just mentioned."

"I see," Bellatrix replied, letting Luna's assessment of Hermione's character roll through her mind.

"Perhaps," Luna continued. "You will be the one who fixes _her_?"

"I honestly don't know," Bellatrix replied. "The past couple of days have been tumultuous to say the least. I'm still trying to make sense of it all."

"Fair enough," replied Luna. "Just do me a favor and don't get obsessive over her. She's a free spirit and is easily crushed."

Bellatrix nodded: she was quite aware of that part of her personality and promised herself to be careful... insofar that she could.

"Also don't break her heart. If you do, you might end up finding some arsenic added to your morning tea."

Bellatrix crossed her arms and raised her chin. "You're a strange and somewhat disturbed girl, Luna."

"Thank you," Luna almost smiled and then excused herself to join Lucius and Draco in the lab.

* * *

Finally, it was the end of a very long day of setting up equipment in the lab with Lucius and the trio. This was only interrupted when Narcissa first chased them off to have dinner, again to say goodbye to Andie who'd be going back to Hogsmeade and then, much later, to chase them off to bed. Perhaps it was a good thing that this family had a good mother hen in the form of a rather strict Narcissa.

Though she was quite grateful for the rescue, as she'd been doing quite enough calibrating to last her a lifetime, she had to admit that the unbridled enthusiasm in the room was more than a little infectious. She had no doubt that she'd find plenty of enjoyment helping them, maybe even a purpose.

The dark witch suppressed a yawn as she stomped up the stairs to the common room the trio had created for themselves. Her feet felt heavy and she'd be quite happy to lose her boots. Almost instinctively, she headed towards the guest-room, when a rather bemused voice sounded near her.

"And where do you think you're going?" sounded Hermione as she stood in the doorway of her own room, a sly grin on her face.

"Hm," Bellatrix offered an apologetic smile. "Force of habit."

Hermione beckoned her over to join her in her room. And when she entered Hermione's room, she thought it was a good thing that she wasn't claustrophobic. Effectively Hermione's home away from school, this room was overflowingly cluttered with books, figures, muggle-things she didn't recognize and even bumped her head into another one of those 'Enterprise'-things Hermione had attached to the ceiling. In fact, she room was so messy, she was almost afraid to move in fear of stepping onto something. Next to the only window was a soft bed which looked to be a lot smaller than the one at her shack: they'd be very cozy tonight indeed.

"Merlin above!" Bellatrix exclaimed. "How do you even move about in this room?"

"I have a far more important question," husked Hermione as she stepped towards her. "Why are you still dressed?"

Arms flowed around her for a loving embrace as a grinning Hermione leaned in for another one of those heavenly kisses. Not hesitating for a moment, the dark witch took the initiative and crushed her lips to Hermione's, quickly parting her lover's lips for a gentle probing of her mouth. The younger witch moaned with delight as the dark witch grabbed her and pulled her body against hers. Probing fingers moved along her back, tugging at the clasps keeping the top of Bellatrix's dress in place. Bellatrix pushed backwards to gently lay down a giggling Hermione on the bed. Tonight, she would give this lovely girl all the attention she deserved.

By now, a deft-handed Hermione had unlatched the claps of her dress and revealed Bellatrix's breasts. An eager Hermione lay both hands on them and started gently kneading. The dark witch felt her breath catch in her throat under her girl's wonderful touch. She leaned in for another soul-searching deep kiss.

But no. Tonight would not be for her. Tonight would be for pampering Hermione. After enjoying a few more moments of tongue-wrestling, Bellatrix broke the kiss and sat up, looking down upon Hermione whom gave her a questioning look.

"Bella? What..." Hermione started to say.

"Ssssh," Bellatrix shushed her, placing a finger on her lips and pushing her girl back to the bed with her other hand. "Lie down. Lie down and enjoy yourself, my pet. Let me take care of you tonight."

A warm smile crossed Hermione's features as Bellatrix straddled her and drew her wand. She gave her girl a cheeky grin and whispered a spell while roving her wand from the top of her blouse to the very bottom, the magic undoing every button along the way. With another flick, she flung the blouse open to reveal Hermione's creamy pale skin. Already, Hermione's chest was rising and falling faster, arousal apparent.

Her own breath caught in her throat when she thought of all the delicious things she would be doing to her girl. Bellatrix whispered another spell, put the tip of her wand to Hermione's bra and yanked it right of her body while her girlfriend let out an excited giggle. Merlin, she'd just exposed the loveliest pair of breasts she had ever laid her eyes on.

At least the muggle trousers were much easier to take off than a dress. A button and a zipper later and Hermione was eagerly kicking off her trousers while Bellatrix removed the rest of her clothing. She lay down besides her girl, snaking an arm around her shoulders and laying her head on the pillow besides her. Already, Hermione was reaching down to remove her knickers, the last piece of clothing still on her body.

"Uh, uh, uh," Bellatrix husked in her ear. "Leave those on for now. You'll thank me later."

Bellatrix shifted a little to allow her to kiss Hermione and she did just that. The anticipation was clear in her girl, that much was certain. The hunger in her kiss. The desire. So intoxicating. The dark witch whispered another spell, causing a tiny blue light to emanate from the tip of her wand.

The moment the tip of her wand touched the tone musculature of Hermione's belly, the girl stiffened and let out a small cry of pleasure. She closed her eyes and her breath quickened as Bellatrix slowly started roving the wand over that athletic body of hers. Increasingly sharpened intakes of breath happened and when Hermione threw her head to one side, she took the opportunity to grasp her earlobe with her lips and gently suckled on it.

Stroking Hermione's hair with her free hand, she whispered in her ear. "Hah, you're so sensitive..."

"Oh, god, Bella," Hermione managed between gasps. "You're so much better than the girls at school!"

"Well, I would hope so!" replied Bellatrix. "Now hush!"

The tip of her wand touched a now hardened nipple, causing an explosion of pleasure in Hermione. She let out another cry, which only intensified when Bellatrix captured the other one with her mouth, lovingly teasing her with her tongue. Her own arousal apparent and she rubbed her loins against Hermione skin for a lovely bit of friction. Certainly, tonight was meant for Hermione, but that didn't mean she couldn't have at least a little fun herself.

Bellatrix moved the wand again, heading downward this time. And her girl's lip trembled with anticipation as she realized what her dark love's destination was. Hermione arched her back when the wand touched the fabric of her knickers. It was why Bellatrix had insisted on her leaving them on as the fabric did much to dull the effect of the magic. With them off, Hermione would have exploded into orgasm by now, but Bellatrix didn't want it to be over that quickly. She kept roving her wand over the front of her knickers, but even now she'd have to be very careful to not overdo it. Judging by, the way Hermione was moaning and the way she was trashing her legs about, her girl was very close to the edge.

Hermione almost cried in protest when she raised her wand away from her knickers. Another spell made the offending piece of clothing disappear and, now done with her wand, she threw it over her shoulder, hoping she'd ever manage to find it again in the mess that was Hermione's room. It was time for skill over magic.

Once again, Hermione cried out in pleasure when two fingers entered her, slipping in effortlessly due to just how wet she was. She slid deeper inside of her, finding just the right place to crook her fingers rhythmically, while gently massaging Hermione's bud with her thumb.

Hermione went mad with pleasure, stretching out her legs and throwing her head back. "Oh... oh god! Bella... oh god..."

"Sssh," Bellatrix let out a throaty chuckle. "God has nothing to do with this. This is all me..."

"Bel... Bella..." Hermione husked, eyes rolling back into her head. Her mumbles became incoherent, mixed with heavy moans.

Bellatrix silenced her with a kiss. A scream was coming and, annoyingly enough, Bellatrix had forgotten to put a silencing charm on the room. Thankfully, Hermione could focus on the kiss for a moment until the inevitable happened. The younger witch screamed into her mouth and promptly went limp. Drenched in sweat and utterly spent, Hermione panted heavily as she lay on bed being held by Bellatrix.

"Hush, pet," she whispered, breathing in Hermione's ear and causing her girl to whimper a litte. "Sleep now. Sleep."

A few moments later, the girl was fast asleep and the room rather distinctively smelled of sex. Bellatrix sat next to the bed on the only chair in the room, found near Hermione's desk. She regarded her young lover, now sleeping on her stomach with her head smushed in her pillow while her face was the very embodiment of happy post-coital bliss. How her body was only half-covered by the duvet as she slept competed the image: Bellatrix mused just how cute her girlfriend... Merlin, her _girlfriend_... looked right now.

She was gratified to know that the skills she had picked up at the women's wing of Azkaban still held up. At least her long stay at that god-forsaken rock hadn't entirely been a waste. The particular spell she had used could be done wandless... and it basically _had_ to be done wandless at Azkaban, but a wand added much more intensity.

There was another skill-set she had wanted to explore. The dark witch had spotted a large ring-bound notepad and a pencil. She folded it open and turned to look at Hermione. Though she hadn't drawn anything in decades, the pencil flew over the paper with startling familiarity. She started with Hermione's sleeping form, added the bed and duvet and later filled in the hair, now messy and spread out over her girl's back. After adding some shading to give her drawing some more body, she regarded her handiwork and held it out to compare it to the real thing.

Bellatrix was surprised how quickly it had come back to her. Even though it was nothing more than a quick gray pencil sketch, it had brought back the old joys of creating; of turning a white sheet of paper into something beautiful. But just as quickly it had come, Bellatrix scoffed at herself.

"Bella, what are you doing?" she whispered to herself and tossed the notepad back onto the desk.

Without a further word, she got back into bed when a snoozing Hermione quickly cuddled up against her, wrapping her arms around her waist. Bellatrix repaid the favor, cradling the girl in her arm and guiding her head to lie on her collar. She pulled the duvet over them both and waited for sleep to claim her.

No. This world wasn't bad at all.


	14. The Devil in the Dark

Dr. Terrance MacDiarmid, though he rather insisted on being referred to as Terry, was not whom Bellatrix had expected him to be. The man was muscular and tall, sporting a great big bushy beard and even though he wore a nice suit, there were elements of tattoos extending out from under his sleeves. All in all, the man wouldn't look out of place at a caber toss contest. Another thing which struck her was just how unreadable this man was. His expression was completely and utterly neutral. Just as neutral as the room she was in. It was a practice. An office, she supposed. There was a desk in front of an impressive looking bookcase. There was a a nice soft sofa near a comfortable looking leather chair. The room itself was well-lit and the window offered a lovely view of the harbor outside.

Truth be told, she wasn't sure what she was even doing here. How could this muggle even help her with anything? It had, of course, been Hermione whom had convinced her to give this a try. She was currently in the waiting room only a few feet away. ' _It'll be good for you_ ', she'd said. ' _We'll make a fun daytrip out of it_ ', she added. The only reason she'd agreed to it was because Hermione had made those puppy-dog eyes at her and followed it up with a kiss.

Fine. Let's get this farce over with, then.

"Ah, welcome, miss Black," spoke Terry with a thick Scottish accent. "Please take a seat. Feel free to lie down if you so desire. I'll remind you I adhere to the strict rules of doctor-patient confidentiality. Furthermore, since I often treat wizards and witches, this room has been warded to keep out any magical prying ears. You may speak freely and be assured not a word will ever go beyond these four walls."

Bellatrix did so, raising her chin imperiously as she sat down. The muggle might be gigantic, but he certainly shouldn't think he could intimidate her in any way.

"Thank you for coming. Lily told me something about your unusual situation. I swear the wizarding world will never cease to amaze me."

"You _should_ be amazed," Bellatrix narrowed her eyes.

"I can tell you are a proud woman, miss Black," said Terry. "You instinctively attempted to assert your dominance when you walked into this room. Why is that?"

"I suppose it's just who I am," said Bellatrix, reading in his words that she had failed to assert herself and sat up a little straighter, staring him down with a little more intensity.

Terry apparently noticed this and leaned back in his seat. "Then it is a good thing I asked you to leave your wand with your partner in the waiting room. I treat many soldiers and ex-soldiers and sometimes therapy can become confrontational. Having been in the SAS myself, I can usually wrestle men thrice your size to the ground if need be, but I'd rather not mess with a witch of your stature and ability when she has her wand."

That made Bellatrix grin. "A wise muggle. So rare."

"Hm," replied Terry, still annoyingly unreadable. She'd wanted him to be impressed or afraid, but he was decidedly neither or anything for that matter. It vexed her greatly.

"Let's start at the beginning, shall we? Tell me a little bit about your life."

Bellatrix didn't see the harm in that. She started out about her home life when she was younger, her sisters, the politics of house Black and eventually the two wizarding wars she'd been involved in. Terry hardly ever replied when she talked, taking it all in. So far things seemed quite simple.

Terry leaned back. "Let's delve a little deeper. Tell me a little bit of this 'Lord Voldemort'. What made you want to follow him?"

Bellatrix scoffed. Hadn't she been obvious? "He was one the greatest dark wizards who had ever lived. He radiated amazing power and charisma. He preached the pure-blood ideals which would stop our world's fall into decadence and would elevate wizardkind! He demanded our devotion, our absolute loyalty. I wanted to be valuable to him. I wanted to be his right-hand woman. I wanted his love. We all thought of him as unstoppable. Larger than life. How could I _not_ follow him?"

"What you've just described, miss Black, is a cult leader," spoke Terry in that annoyingly neutral, non-judgmental tone of his.

"Don't be ridiculous! A powerful movement has a powerful leader," Bellatrix scoffed. "Was Epicurus a cult leader? Or Queen Boadicea? Or George Washington? I think not."

Terry, however, would not be distracted. "He used you," he stated calmly.

"No!" Bellatrix hissed angrily at this vexing muggle. "No. He... appreciated me. He saw my talent! He saw my...usefulness."

That last word caused a horrible feeling to well up in the pit of her stomach.

"He manipulated you. You loved him. He exploited that."

"NO! I... He _did_ love me!" she hissed, rising to her full height. The muggle, however, didn't seem impressed.

"Miss Black," he calmly stated. "Please sit down."

Being in no mood to be wrestled to the ground by a man who could possibly toss a caber halfway across a field, Bellatrix forced herself to calm down and sat back down on the sofa. Shaking her head she stared past Terry, out the window. Focusing on the boats passing the harbour settled her somewhat.

"If he exploited me, I would have known!" Bellatrix finally snapped back.

"Would you really? How did he show his love for you? Did he tell you?" Terry asked.

"Well, no," Bellatrix admitted.

"Did he, perhaps, show it through other means?"

"He sent me on the most dangerous missions!" said Bellatrix. "That means he trusted me. He would utilize my talents. He made me the best I could be!"

"You had an auror apprenticeship. You spied for him. He turned you against your family. He demanded from you that he and only he, was worth serving. He then encouraged you to cut ties with those who didn't think like him, thus separating you from anyone who could convince you not to follow him."

"Yes! He gave me purpose! He made me feel... whole!" snarled Bellatrix. "Don't you understand what he did for me?! I was nothing before I met him! Nobody!"

"Before you met him," Terry spoke. "You were Bellatrix Black. You had a troubled, yet loving home. You had two sisters whom you loved dearly. You excelled in school. You developed magical spells of your own. You had an auror apprenticeship. You had a future ahead of you. Miss Black, you did all these things without this Lord Voldemort's intervention. You were whole _long_ before you met him."

Bellatrix felt her lip starting to tremble. "No. That's... that's not true. I... He..."

"He was a cult leader. Who manipulated you by making himself the center of your universe. Even now you speak of him with affection."

"He made me powerful! He made me..."

"He robbed you of your freedom to choose."

"Listen to me, you stupid little muggle! He was _everything_ to me!"

"He ruined your life."

It was simple statement. But a damning statement. A painful statement. She knew exactly what moment in her life he was referring to. The moment that changed everything.

It was at this point in time that Bellatrix decided to lie down on the sofa, staring at the ceiling. "We were desperate," she stated. "Our lord was gone. The movement was falling apart. We needed to find him. We... we captured two aurors. We questioned them. Tortured them. I remember Alice Longbottom looking up at me, begging her to believe me that she didn't know anything. It only made me angrier. I cast powerful curses. Something within her broke. It... we never meant for it to go that far."

"I want you to close your eyes," said Terry and Bellatrix did so. "Imagine you are tied to a chair. You've been beaten. You've been cursed. Above you stands a woman aiming her wand at you, shouting at you to tell her what she wants to know. But, you know nothing. You have no idea where Lord Voldemort is or where to find him. You desperately try to convince the woman of this, but it is to no avail. She hits you with curse after curse after curse and you grow ever more desperate and afraid. You know nothing and yet this woman is unrelenting. Now, I want you to realize that you are the woman holding the wand. You are looking down upon an innocent woman who knows nothing and you are mercilessly cursing her. Tell me what you are feeling right now. Be honest, miss Black."

Bellatrix kept her eyes close as her breath quickened. It was, for a while, the only sound that was audible in the room. A soft whisper finally broke the silence. "Regret."

"War and conflict. It's high stress environment where every chose taken can mean the difference between life or death. It can make outwardly normal people do extraordinary things to survive. It can make it seem that the most heinous of acts are the right thing to do at that point in time. Afterwards, people convince themselves it's because of patriotism, for the greater good or to serve a great cause or leader in your case."

"I've done worse," Bellatrix lay to her side. "I killed my own niece, Nymphadora Tonks, in combat. I knew nothing of her other than she was my sister's daughter."

Terry remained neutral and non-judgmental. "I'm curious. Why did you do this? Of course, the most obvious reason would be 'she was the enemy', but the way you just said that tells me there is a deeper reason."

"My sister. Andromeda. Andie. She never gave up on me, did you know that? She was a traitor of her own family and her own blood. Bred with a mudblood, even! She was an embarrassment, made me look bad in the eyes of my lord. But she never stopped trying to... to reach out. Sent me letters trying to convince me to stop this 'madness' as she called it. Even when I was imprisoned she kept going! Tried to visit me, even! Told me that even though I had rejected her, she would never reject _me_!"

"Obviously, she loved you very much," said Terry. "How did her attempts to save you from yourself made you feel?"

"I hated it! I hated her!" Bellatrix spat. "She put doubt in my head! Tried to shake my conviction! Eroded my loyalty for my lord! You want to know what I felt when I looked at my niece's corpse? Really?! I felt pride! I felt relief! I know that Andie would never forgive me and that she'd finally stop trying to stray me from the right path! I felt joy! I felt... I felt... I..."

"Yes, miss Black?" Terry said, waiting patiently.

A tremor went through Bellatrix, and looking down at herself she found that her hands were shaking. The things she had just said, the thoughts bubbling to the surface... to hear her say the words out loud. It was madness. Utter and complete madness. Why? Why hadn't she seen it before? Tears exploded from her eyes as she pulled her knees up to her stomach and rolled herself into a ball. Once the flood gates opened, the tears never stopped coming. She cried and sobbed, hugging herself while shaking as the full weight of her own actions crushed down upon her. Perhaps... in another life... another time... she might have even come to like her plucky niece. Instead, she had robbed her of her future.

When she had finally calmed down a little, she saw that Terry had shifted his chair closer to the sofa and held out a hankerchief for her, something which the dark witch gladly took to dry her tears. "Should I fetch miss Granger? You look like you might use the support."

"No!" Bellatrix quickly demanded as she forced herself to sit up. "I don't want her to see me like this!"

"You mean vulnerable? Open? Honest?"

"Weak!" Bellatrix hissed back. "Simpering!"

"What are you afraid of? Imagine she would have been here during the entire conversation. What would you imagine she'd feel?"

Bellatrix didn't need to think long. "Revulsion."

"Do you truly believe that?"

"Hermione, she..." Bellatrix whispered. "She so innocent. She knows only a few things about my previous life, but no real details. She doesn't know about the things I've done... what I'm capable of. I don't want Hermione to... to see me as the monster I am."

"It might surprise you, but this is a very common sentiment among soldiers with civilian spouses. The circumstances of your situation might be unique, but your situation itself certainly isn't," said Terry. "Let me ask you this, miss Black. Do you think a monster feels regret? Do you think a monster worries about how others feel about them? Do you think a monster worries that she doesn't deserve to be loved?"

Bellatrix went quiet for a moment before slowly shaking her head. "Hermione. She's... she's my last chance. My last chance to have some semblance of happiness in my life. I just don't want _him_ to ruin that too!"

"Ah," said Terry. "Now we're making progress."

Bellatrix scoffed. "I wish you could just wave a wand and make all of this go away."

"You're not the first witch to tell me that," Terry replied. "Magic is wondrous, but it can't fix everything."

"I'm learning that," said Bellatrix. "To my chagrin."

"Let's talk about Hermione. Obviously, you care a great deal about her. Let's compare those feelings you have for her with the feelings you had for this Voldemort chap."

"Pft, there's no comparison," Bellatrix snorted. "Completely different things. I admired him."

"Does that mean you don't admire Hermione?"

"No! Of course I do! It's just... different," Bellatrix pressed. "Hermione doesn't have any great magical powers, or a powerful bloodline or a cadre of followers but..."

"She managed to capture your heart anyway. Why is that?"

"She appreciates me. But not for my power or usefulness, but for... who I am. I tried to keep my distance, push her away, insulted her even but... she never gave up on me. Said I was smart and beautiful and... wants to be with me for me," Bellatrix said, still full of disbelief that this wonderful girl had chosen for her of all people.

"You sound somewhat... skeptical. At yourself. Why is that?"

"Someone like her shouldn't be with someone like me," Bellatrix muttered angrily.

"You feel as if you don't deserve her. I'm sure miss Granger disagrees. Forgiveness is a powerful thing, miss Black. Forgiveness the starting point of any form of healing," Terry pressed.

"Forgiveness," Bellatrix let the word roll over her tongue in a mocking tone. "Andie will never forgive me and nor should she! The Longbottom brat will never forgive me either. Besides, it's moot. We're literally universes apart."

"No, miss Black, that's not what I mean," Terry said. "You'll have to forgive _yourself_."

* * *

"Shall I ask Morag to pencil in an appointment for the same time next week?" said Terry as he and Bellatrix entered the waiting room.

Bellatrix, her face still streaked with tears and runny make-up, nodded briefly. "Please do," she whispered.

"Bella," said Hermione as she flowed into her arms like water. Bellatrix smiled as she held on to her girlfriend a little tighter. She really needed to feel Hermione's love right now. "I'm so proud of you."

"Miss Granger," Terry nodded, showing the first smile she had seen on his face.

"I... I need to fix my make-up," Bellatrix said.

"Feel free to use our restroom."

Fresh air was much needed and Fort William offered quite enough of that. It was a lovely Scottish town situated at the mouth of Loch Linnhe and surrounded by the rolling green mountains of the Scottish highlands. It was a lovely summer day with Ben Nevis, the highest mountain in the British Isles, clearly visible in the distance. Being a major tourist center on a warm summer day, there were plenty of walkers about. However, after what she'd just been through, she could stand to be around a few muggles.

Her wardrobe consisted mostly of robes and dresses, but these would more than stand out a little in this muggle town. So for their trip to Fort William, Hermione had convinced her to wear black jeans and a light summer blouse. Though the weather was a little bit warm for it, she had elected to wear her black beret. The choice of clothing had the added bonus of earning her more than a few admiring looks from Hermione.

She and Hermione stood side by side on the town's pier, taking in the fresh salt water smell of the Atlantic. The dark witch had lit a cigarette and took a deep drag. "That was grueling, pet," she said, producing a cloud of nicotine filled smoke.

"I think that's the point, isn't it?" Hermione asked before taking a puff from her own cigarette. Bellatrix scooted close and put an arm around Hermione's waist. In response, the younger witch lay her head on her shoulder.

"I was thinking we could turn this into a weekend trip," said Hermione. "We could book a night at a hotel. Muck about town for a bit. I want to check out the West Highland Museum and maybe do a short hike. Fetch some pub grub."

"Sounds wonderful, pet," said Bellatrix before both witches put out their cigarettes. Honestly, she couldn't care less about this muggle town and the muggle activities. What made it wonderful was that she would have a smiling Hermione by her side.

Their first stop would be a pub to get something to eat and drink. Who knew that having your mind turned inside out could raise such an appetite? The pub they settled on was the Grog & Gruel, located in the high street. Contrary to what the name would imply, the pub was cozy and welcoming while the food smelled delicious. Best of all, it was dog-friendly as Hermione still insisted on bringing her dog everywhere with them. They found a table and ordered drinks: a craft ale for Bellatrix and a pint of pepsi for Hermione.

They were looking over the menu to pick a meal when Spock got up from his nap next to the table and got a little excited. Unfortunately, Hermione hadn't tied the lead to the table, so the dog shot off towards the entrance where a familiar gigantic man now stood.

"'Ello there, Spock me ole lad!" spoke Hagrid as he picked up the alsatian as if it was a particularly small poodle and pressed him to his chest while the dog eagerly licked his face. "What are you doin' 'ere then?"

"Another one?" sounded the bemused voice of Tom Riddle. "I swear, you're picked up and petted every dog, cat and horse in the highland area, Hagrid."

"Oh, it's those two," said Bellatrix to Hermione. "They did mention a weekend trip. I didn't realize they were still here."

"They usually stay longer," smiled Hermione while she waved the two men over. They were both dressed for hiking, complete with muddy walking boots and looked as if they had just dragged themselves off a walking trail. "These two are like heterosexual life-partners."

"Miss Granger, miss Black," greeted Riddle. "Good to see you both. Fancied a holiday, I see. Good choice. Fort William is a lovely area to stay."

Truth be told, after what she just had been through, Tom Riddle was the last person she wanted to see. She scooted over a little to let the two men sit down at the table, while Hagrid took a startling amount of room to fit. Bellatrix found herself rather ill at ease. This jovial man, a mild-mannered muggle-studies teacher, was no comparison to her old lord, but his countenance as was as part of his presence was still the same. The dark witch found her hands started to shake again.

"Still hiking?" asked Hermione.

"Well, we did our annual Ben Nevis climb," started Riddle. "But then a certain someone found out Snorfaks had been spotted near the coast. So naturally, another series of hikes were planned."

"Ah, it's good exercise," said Hagrid.

"But did we see a single Snorfak?"

"Well, no," Hagrid muttered. "But those sea-dragons were a sight to behold."

"I'm reasonably sure those were harbour seals, Rubeus," Riddle chuckled as two more pints of craft ales were served.

Apparently, Hermione noticed Bellatrix's slight distress and gently placed her hand over hers and gently rubbed it, offering her a warm smile. This, however, did not go unnoticed.

"Right, Rubeus, fork it over," Riddle said. The half-giant grumbled and produced a ten-pound note. He put the tenner on the table and winked at Hermione. "Next round of drinks is on me."

"What did you two bet about?" asked Hermione.

"'Ow long it would take before the two ye'd get together," said Hagrid. "Seeing 'ow stubborn ye were, miss Black, I be figurin' it'd take at least until autumn."

"Nah," said Riddle. "I know my top student. Amount of time she spent talking about miss Black, it's not surprising."

Hermione blushed slightly. "I, uhm, might have gotten carried away a little, maybe."

"It just means we'll have to be a bit more careful when school starts," said Bellatrix.

When the waitress came over to take their order, Bellatrix settled for a traditional plate of fish and chips, while Hermione went for a nice burger. The four of them chatted a bit during the meal, until Hagrid had an idea.

"Now that ye are 'ere," Hagrid spoke. "And our bellies are full... ye must simply come with us for the whiskey tastin'. Ben Nevis distillery is quite nearby."

"Firewhisky is nice," said Riddle. "But you really can't beat a ten year old single malt."

"I'd love to," pouted Hermione. "But I'm not 21 yet."

"Oh?" asked Riddle. "Do you have your passport with you, miss Granger? May I see it?"

"Alright," said Hermione, fishing the passport from her jacket and handing it over.

"Hm," Riddle looked it over. "19 september 1979. Almost 20."

"Still not even near 21, though," said Hermione.

Riddle said nothing, but fished his wand from his pocket. While keeping his movement out of sight, he tapped the passport with the tip of his wand. "And that is how that last nine turns into a seven. As if by magic. Because it did! Almost 22 now, miss Granger."

A smiling Hermione took her passport while Hagrid frowned. "Ain't that a bit irresponsible, Tom?"

"I don't think so," said Riddle. "Miss Granger can handle it."

"I approve," Bellatrix added, who had finally managed to stop her hands from shaking. "And now that you're hyped up this distillery, I am quite curious."

"And then we should look for a hotel," said Hermione, turning to the men. "We're planning on staying the night and then enjoying the town a bit more tomorrow."

"Oh, save yer money," said Hagrid. "Cottage we've rented sleeps six and there's a whole room we ain't usin'. Stay with us. But fun to 'ave a dog to play with too."

"That's a good idea," said Riddle. "The more the merrier. Just do us a favor, though, and use a silence charm. Rubeus here desperately needs his beauty rest."

Bellatrix decided that, unlike her earlier assessment of him, she might just like this Tom Riddle a whole lot better than the one in her own universe.

* * *

Whiskey tasting with the Dark Lord.

Now that was something that would never have happened in her world. Like the others, Bellatrix had joined the tour of the distillery and snoozed her way through it, while Hagrid and Riddle had been more than a little impatient to hit the rather classy tasting room with burgundy painted walls and black leather seats around wooden tables. Finding a nice place to sit at, Hagrid and Riddle's usual table it seemed, samples of whiskey were poured for them to taste.

It started off with some simple younger blends of relatively low alcohol content before they'd been poured the more expensive brews.

"Ah, that 'its the spot," said Hagrid after downing a 40 percent Nevis Dew supreme selection blend.

"Very smooth," said Riddle as he took hold of the next glass and gave it a good smell. "Oh, I recognize this one! Savor that smell."

"Hm," said Bellatrix as she raised her glass, only for Riddle to stop her.

"Hold on," he said, picking up the eye-dropper. With deft hands, a single drop of water fell into the whisky. " _Now_ you drink it."

Bellatrix poured the contents of the glass into her mouth, swished it a little and then swallowed. It happily burned all the way down to her stomach. "Very peat-y," Bellatrix replied.

"It's the deluxe blend," said Riddle. "Twelve years old, 40 percent proof."

"This is a blend?" Bellatrix frowned. "Seriously?"

"Tastes like a malt, doesn't it?" said Riddle. "Rich in flavor."

Bellatrix nodded in approval. "Say what you will about muggles, but at least they do know how to brew a fine whiskey."

From the other side of the table sounded a rather deep groan. "Uuuhhh," was the sound Hermione produced. "I, uh, I... I think that last one went straight to my head."

"Aye," guffawed Hagrid. "I think our 'ermione is a little bit of a light-weight."

"I'll say," Riddle replied. "Miss Granger, we haven't even gotten to the main course yet."

Four more glasses were put to the table and Riddle eagerly picked up his, produced his eye-dropper and applied a single drop of water. "Ten year old Highland single malt Scotch, limited edition. Matured in a first-fill sherry cask. 62 percent proof. One bottom a glass of pure bliss."

As Riddle downed his glass, Hagrid regarded Hermione for a moment. "Hm, I think you should skip this one, 'ermione."

Hermione sat straight up, rubbing her forehead for a moment. She raised her finger, though her arm was a bit wobbly as she swayed in her seat. "N-n-n-no-nobody calls m-me a l-lightweight! G-Give me that g-glass!"

"Good girl," Riddle said, eye-dropped her glass as shifted it towards her.

Bellatrix waited for her glass to be eye-dropped and swiftly downed the liquid. The taste was magnificent and the drink left her feeling warm in her stomach and light in her head. Honestly, she felt quite a bit better about today.

"I shall purchase a bottle of the limited edition and the deluxe blend,. My treat," said Riddle. "One for drinking tonight, one for a rainy day. We'll decide which one to drink tonight later."

"Ah, that sounds mighty fine!" Hagrid laughed.

A sharp thud sounded from the other side of the table as Hermione had fallen forward. With her cheek smushed against the wood and her eyes closed, she let her arms hang and produced a soft feminine snore.

"Oh, dear," Riddle regarded his top student and bit his lower lip. "I seem to have overestimated miss Granger's drinking capacity."

"That's 'er done drinkin' for the day," Hagrid stroked his beard. "Best carry 'er back to the cottage then."

"Ah, pet, you're such a light-weight," Bellatrix chuckled, thinking of various ways to tease her young girlfriend with this fun little fact later.


	15. The Conscience of the King

Hard to believe the summer was nearing its end.

For the past couple of months, Bellatrix had found a happy balance between reconnecting with her family, helping Lucius and the trio with the experiment and exploring her blossoming relationship with Hermione. From the many shopping trips with her sisters, she had built up quite a wardrobe... it also helped that Hogwarts continued paying her salary through the summer, essentially giving her money for doing nothing. Whatever she hadn't spent on clothes or cigarettes went straight into a savings account.

Aside from that, she had been making her weekly trips to Fort William to visit Terry MacDiarmid to continue her therapy. Unfortunately, it never got any less grueling or confrontational, often leaving his practice shaken to the core. Terry, however, did assure her that it was all part of the healing process.

Healing.

Such an odd experience. She certainly felt better than she had in years, both physically and mentally. Still, the part of her which resisted, the part of her which constantly nagged at her that she was beyond saving, beyond healing and undeserving of the second chance she'd been given, was always with her. Supposedly this was normal. And it was the reason why she was now here in this room, which was located in the closed off section of the manor.

In front of her stood an empty canvas, about a meter squared, and locked in an easel. Surrounding her were dozens of cans of paint, freshly delivered. Bellatrix flicked her wand, popping the top of the cans one by one before she sheathed her wand again. _Real_ wizarding artists painted without wands, after all. She muttered arcane words and held her arms out. The cans started to vibrate slightly as the magic started to flow into the paint. The liquid started to flow upwards steadily, live a reverse-waterfall. She grit her teeth as she bent the flow of the magic-infused to her will.

She threw her arms into the hair, her hands cramping into a stiffened claw-shape as the paint merged above her head, circling into a violent and bubbling maelstrom. The paint mixed, colors came and went from bright to dark as the magic fought her control with all its chaotic might. The dark witch felt the strain on her physical and mental self increase with every second: lesser witches would have lost control by now and ended up splattering the room and themselves... but they weren't Bellatrix Black. And she _refused_ to relent.

The magic in the paint was as chaotic and willful as the painter themselves, but Bellatrix was stronger. Feeling the sweat on her brow, she guided the flowing paint downward. It encircled her body, following around her waist, her head, her aims: the paint had now been fully bound to her will and begged for guidance. Instantly, she folded her arms forward, towards the canvas, and the paint shot towards it.

' _We don't make mistakes. We have happy accidents,'_ she repeated in her mind. In the past someone had told her that those words had been spoken by a muggle, but she could not believe it: such wisdom could only come from the most powerful and insightful of wizards.

The paint splattered against the canvas and Bellatrix felt intense once released from the mental strain.

There were many ways of painting with magic, just a many as there were painting the regular way through skilled hands. If concentrating hard enough, she could force the paint to form the image she had in her mind, but Terry had told her painting what she was feeling at the time could be very therapeutic. That's why she let the magic paint form an image based on her feelings instead, whatever her state of mind could muster at the time.

She closed her eyes and fell back into the folding chair she had set up earlier, taking a moment to recover. When she opened her eyes, she saw that the paint had formed an imagine. It was an image of Azkaban, the bane of her life, in the middle of a churning ocean. Behind it was a massive depiction of the grim reaper, his scythe held high ready to strike and demolish the building forever while a ray of sun broke through the stormy clouds.

"Fitting end for that fucking hellhole," Bellatrix grit her teeth, happy with her handiwork. Azkaban... hard to believe that it was a getaway in this universe: a luxury resort for overworked wizards wanting to get away from it all for a week to enjoy the calm sea breeze.

This was painting number five. The others were hung from the wall to one side. Her first attempt ended up with a painting of an astonishingly lifelike dementor. Though she could appreciate the craftsmanship, looking at the painting made her feel rather uneasy. Especially considering its tattered form was moving slightly, looking at if it would jump out of the canvas at any moment.

Her second attempt was made right after a particularly heart-wrenching therapy session with Terry in which she had discussed her suicide attempt. It came as no surprise that the painting she had made right after depicted a self portrait of herself... swinging from a noose in the middle of a darkened attic.

Her third attempt was a painting she kept covered with a white cloth for most of the time. It was a painting of the lifeless corpse of her niece Nymphadora. She had thought about destroying it and probably would at some point, but Terry had convinced her that even self-expression that seemed harmful was part of the healing process. Creative works were a way of expressing deep-seated emotions, both positive and negative, according to him.

Her fourth attempt had come out as a bit of a surprise. It was a depiction of Lord Voldemort with his wand raised , angry and terrifying... except for the fact that he sported a big red clown's nose. Up until a few months ago, this mockery of her once beloved dark lord would have been unthinkable, but she had to admit that she had let out a chuckle when she had first seen it.

There was a knock on the door and Bellatrix knew it could only be one person. "Come in, Cissy," Bellatrix replied. "There's no paint flying through the air."

As Narcissa entered, the dark witch stepped over to the side of the room near the window and took a drink from a glass of water. "Your latest?" Narcissa pointed at the canvas. "Still very morbid."

"That's the point, isn't it?" said Bellatrix, wiping away the sweat from her forehead with a cloth. "Terry said I should paint what I feel."

"Then maybe try to feel less morbid?"

"It's not as if I have much control over it," Bellatrix shrugged.

"Hm," said Narcissa. "I still think you should tell Hermione that you've picked up painting again. She's been trying to get you to pick it back up for ages. She brings it up almost every dinner still."

"I know, but _that_ ," she said, pointing to the painting of her hanged self swaying in the darkened attic, "is a very good reason not to."

Narcissa sighed. "You know, you don't _have_ to paint your morbid thoughts. You could paint something nice. That landscape over there, for example."

"That thing?" said Bellatrix as she regarded a canvas put down in the corner, along with some sketchbooks she had been piddling with. "That's just practice stuff. Just me trying out some brushes and some new colors of paint. It's not even _magic_."

"It's lovely!" said Narcissa. "And Hermione would love it."

"But it's not _magic_!" Bellatrix pressed. "It's just a dull-as-dishwater unmoving painting."

"Hermione won't care," said Narcissa.

"Perhaps not, but _I_ would!"

Narcissa sighed. "Bella, you're hopeless," she said. "I just think you shouldn't keep secrets from Hermione."

"I'll paint her something nice in due time," sighed Bellatrix. "I'll be her birthday soon. Perhaps then. I don't know... Until then, my little atelier remains hidden."

"I know just the thing you could paint for her," said Narcissa and produced a small scale model from her purse. It was a smaller rendition of that model which was hanging from Hermione's ceiling in their room. Three tubes and a saucer. This 'Enterprise' thing Hermione seemed to be in love with.

Bellatrix blinked. "You're joking."

"Just give her the damn landscape."

"Cissy..." Bellatrix glowered.

"Fine, fine," said Narcissa, putting the little Enterprise down on the table for now. "I'll tell you what, though, looking at these paintings side by side, don't you notice anything?"

"Yeah," Bellatrix muttered. "How fucked up my mind is."

"No, look at the paintings," said Narcissa. "Each painting has more color to it than the previous one. Look, your first one is colorless and if you go through them in order, you can see more brighter colors coming up."

"Huh," said Bellatrix as she rubbed her chin. Indeed, Cissy was right: more and brighter colors popped up as she went from painting to painting.

Was this... healing?

She'd have to ask Terry next time she'd have a session with him.

"In any case," said Narcissa. "It it time for tea. Won't you join me on the balcony?"

"Sounds lovely."

Bellatrix did just that. The balcony in question was adjacent to the master bedroom and overlooked the front yard of Malfoy manor: yhe part of the yard which was at least somewhat presentable. It was a nice summer day for a nice summer in general: very little rain, reasonable temperatures and plenty of sun. Rather un-English, come to think. As per usual, Bellatrix chatted with Narcissa about little things and often learned new things about this brave new world which was now her home.

One of the things she had been surprised to learn was that Sirius and Regulus had never existed. The reason for this was that Sirius and Regulus' grandfather, Arcturus Black, had emigrated to the Americas in 1920 to seek his fortune, meaning the branch of the family Sirius was part of had never existed.

Instead, she had a whole slew of new family living in the United States of America. Aunts, uncles, cousins and their families: a whole new generation of Blacks living in a place called 'Montana'. She didn't know much about it, but according to Narcissa this place called Montana was beautiful. It was, in any case, gratifying to know the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black was still going strong. Perhaps she would visit Montana some day with Hermione.

As for Hermione, living with Hermione was certainly not without its merits. Hermione was one big enthusiastic ball of affection. It was nice to be wanted. It was so wonderful... to be loved.

During the entire summer she had Hermione had only one argument and it was about the clutter in Hermione's perpetually messy room. When getting out of bed one morning, Bellatrix had stepped in something on the floor and cut her the sole of her foot open. An argument ensued about the need and merits of cleaning up the room they shared once in a while. In the end, they had compromised: Hermione had agreed to move some of her 'treasures' to the now empty guestroom for storage. This had the added bonus of the room now actually fitting a larger bed for the both of them.

Also, she had adhered to Hermione's playful demand of expecting lots of sex. Not that she minded. Not at all.

Bellatrix and Narcissa were just discussing a bit of family history when she felt two loving arms encircle her shoulders. "Ygor!" sounded Hermione, making her voice sound distorted and crackly. "It is time for more... experiments!"

"Ah, time for lab duty."

"Finish your tea first, Bella."

"Awww," sounded a disappointed Hermione. "You were supposed to say. Yessss, masssstteerrrr, yesssss..."

"Dream on, Granger!" Bellatrix snorted, causing the younger witch to lean forward and kiss her on the cheek.

* * *

"End experiment," sighed Lucius. The magical hum from the device lowered immediately as Luna and Draco stopped the flow of magic.

The summer had been a flurry of daily tests, working through the results and then trying again. And again. And again. The initial setup of the experiment had not been changed: two large funnels, one to capture the magic transporting the object, the other to expunge it. Set four meters apart, connected to all manner of measuring equipment.

"We've made apple juice," Draco sighed heavily. " _Again!"_

"Cheer up, Draco," said Hermione. "We've transported half an apple intact. That's further than we've even come."

"That's not good enough, Dreamer!" Draco threw back in her face. "What? Do you want to transport half a person?! Half is not good enough. Sometimes the glass-is-half-full attitude really isn't helping!"

When Draco saw the hurt look on Hermione's face, he reached over to squeeze her shoulder. "Sorry, Dreamer. It's just... this is frustrating."

"I know," said Hermione.

Dinner arrived, thankfully, at an opportune moment. Narcissa arrived with a tray, ready to feed her 'hungry explorers'. Today, she hadn't made dinner herself, rather ordered it from a local Chinese take-away place. She quickly distributed boxes of food and soft-drinks and sat down besides her family as they took a place on the dais where the contraption was stood upon. Since science was hungry work, chopsticks found their way into the food almost instantly. Bellatrix herself was enjoying a serving of spicy Gung Bao chicken and, since she wasn't all that good with chopsticks, decided to eat with her fingers. Unladylike, perhaps, but hunger overrode any sense of decorum.

"I don't get it. Why can't we get it to work?" Draco muttered while eating his noodles. "Every inch of progress, a new hurdle gets thrown up."

"So many variables to consider," said Luna, after finishing another one of her dumplings. "Magical cadence, energy phase variance the inclination of the funnels, the size of the funnels, the distance to cross, mass of the object and even the room temperature. Then there's the fact that we're kicking off the teleportation magic manually rather than with predicable charms… but we can't develop charms to do that before we have figured out the variables we need."

"Nobody ever said discovery is easy, Draco. Chin up. We get closer with every single try," said Lucius, ever the optimist.

"Aunt Bellatrix can teleport just fine!" Draco protested. "And she doesn't need funnels or exact distances."

"Draco, that spell is 900 years ahead of our current understanding of teleportation magic," said Hermione in between bites from her sliced duck. "It would be like… going back to a medieval village and handing the peasants a car. They might figure out a way to drive it, but they'll never be able to figure out how it works, let alone make another one."

"We're the peasants. Great," Draco sighed.

"The readings from the Hogwarts equipment were a tremendous help. We've managed to narrow down the magical cadence between 0.475 and 0.787 and the energy variance between 12.4 and 13.7 MagiHertz. We were way too high in either before we met Bella," said Lucius.

"Perhaps we should take a moment to step back and evaluate," said Hermione, holding another piece of duck in her chopsticks while still chewing on the one she had just put in her mouth.

Bellatrix quickly bent forward, snatching the piece of duck from Hermione's chopsticks with her mouth.

"Hey!" Hermione protested. "Stop stealing my food!"

"You shouldn't have waved it in front of me so seductively then, pet," said Bellatrix after chewing and swallowing the succulent piece of duck.

"Oh, so it's my fault now?!" Hermione narrowed her eyes and reached her chopsticks over to snatch a piece of chicken from Bellatrix's box.

"MINE!" the dark witch quickly pulled it out of reach.

"Oh, that's nice!" Hermione pouted, crossing her arms.

Bellatrix chuckled. "You're so cute when you're angry."

"You are so no getting any tonight."

"Liar!" Bellatrix smirked. "One blow in your ear and your knickers are on your ankles."

"Hmpf," Hermione huffed.

The dark witch laughed and fished a bit of chicken from her box with her fingers. She reached it to Hermione, whom deftly captured it with her teeth, making sure to lick the few drops of sauce from her fingers as well. What the younger witch didn't miss to catch, was the brief shudder which went through Bellatrix when she did so. "I swear," Hermione winked. "One lick to your fingers and your knickers are on your ankles."

"Touche," Bellatrix laughed.

Luna let out an annoyed grunt. "I am not hearing _any_ of this!"

"I am!" Laughed Draco.

Bellatrix pursed her lips for a moment. "The next school term starts next week."

"Don't remind me," Draco muttered.

"Point is," said Bellatrix. "I can't keep the absence of so many pieces of equipment hidden. I'll have to take them back before they are missed."

"I'm grateful we were able to use any of this equipment at all," said Lucius. "Truth be told, we don't really need to use most of it right now. But... would it be possible to hold on to the dissiminator? It's the only piece of equipment we can't do without at the moment."

Bellatrix nodded. "I'll do some forgery work in the log. Cover my tracks. One missing device I can keep hidden," she said.

"We won't give up," Luna said. "We won't be doing our daily experiments and the work will slow significantly, but we still have the weekends. Every weekend in our eighth year. We _will_ get this right."

"That's the spirit, Luna," Lucius smiled.

Narcissa was in the process of gathering up the empty boxes and emptied cans. "Plans for tonight? More experiments or..."

"Something fun," Lucius broke in and turned to the trio. "You've spent enough time helping me today. Remember that this is still your summer holiday."

* * *

Evening was filled with snooker, some god-awful film about wax sculptures coming alive and after darkness had fallen, Bellatrix and Hermione both found themselves back in Lucius' lab. Not for more experiments this time, but rather to do some stargazing. After opening the doors to the top floor and laying a blanket out onto the broom-launch platform, the two of them stared up into the clear night sky. Crickets could be heard in the distance, as well as the occasional owl.

Bellatrix spent most of the time listening to Hermione pointing out constellations she had never heard of. Of course, Bellatrix simply couldn't place them in sky, but was content to just listen to Hermione's soothing voice.

"... and there's Kassandra, the seer. Cursed by Apollo to always speak true prophecies, but never to be believed. Some say Kassandra was a witch with powers of divination, but, alas, destined to be ignored."

"Hm?" said Bellatrix. "Sorry, I missed that."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I should change her name to 'Hermione'."

"I was simply listening to the sound of your voice," replied the dark witch.

"Smooth," giggled Hermione. "You know, next week we'll have been together for two months."

"Two months," Bellatrix whispered. "Time flies."

"Longest time I've even been involved with anyone," said Hermione, turning her head towards her. "I'm glad at least someone with a romantic interest can stand be around me for that long."

There was a smile on her face, but Bellatrix wasn't laughing. "Don't put yourself down like that. It doesn't suit you."

"Wow, look who's all serious all of a sudden," Hermione stuck out her tongue playfully.

Bellatrix didn't rise to the bait. Hermione was special to her, that much was certain, to hear her being so negative about herself was vexing. The two lay in silence for a moment.

"Bella?"

"Yes, pet?"

"Have you ever looked up? And wondered what's out there?" she asked.

"Not particularly," Bellatrix shrugged.

"Why not?"

"Just... never really thought about it," said Bellatrix. "Too focused on other things to just... stare off into the sky."

Hermione smiled as she looked towards the stars. "When I look up there, I see endless possibilities. Endless worlds among countless stars. I think that, right now, somewhere on another planet, in another galaxy, there is a couple out there, beings too alien too imagine. They are together, looking up and wondering who's looking back at them from endless light-years away. All those stars, all those pinpricks out there. The light of those stars traveled millions, perhaps billions of years through time and space just for the two of us to see them at this very moment."

"I already knew you had a romantic soul, but I didn't realize you were also a philosopher," said Bellatrix. Hermione smiled and cuddled up against her, taking a moment to brush lips. "I can honestly say I've never met someone like you before."

"Is that a good thing?" Hermione chuckled.

"It is," replied Bellatrix.

"I'm glad you're here," whispered Hermione. "With me."

Bellatrix thought for a moment. Then, and against her better judgment, she leaned in and whispered in her girl's ear. "Close your eyes."

A shudder went through her entire body and the dark witch let out a throaty chuckle: she wasn't kidding when she said blowing in her ear had an effect on her. "I'll tell you when you can open them."

"Okay," Hermione smiled as she lay on her back and waited. Meanwhile, Bellatrix took a sketchbook from her pouch, along with a piece of charcoal and let it slide over the paper.

"Can I open them yet?" Hermione asked.

"Not yet!" Bellatrix hissed as she picked up the pace, doing a quick and dirty sketch of Hermione, yet making it look as lifelike as possible. She only needed to add some shading and it'd be done. She put down the charcoal, tore the sketch out of the book and held it over Hermione's head. "Open your eyes, pet."

Hermione did so, frowning at first but then smiling broadly. "Y-you're drawing again?" she sat up and looked at her with those soulful brown eyes of her. The joy was genuine. She was genuinely happy for her. Realizing this almost made her go weak in the knees.

"Just... just some doodles," Bellatrix said. Sure, it was a lie. But for now, it was for the best. She'd tell her about the paintings another day. "It's not as if I'm planning to do anything with it, it's just... keeping up practice."

Hermione embraced her tightly. "I'm so happy to see you following your dreams again."

Bellatrix closed her eyes and savored the embrace. Being with Hermione was changing her. That much she knew. And it was for the better. It was as if she'd been stumbling through a dark and lonely night for the past decades and only now started to see the light of the bright and warm dawn coming over the horizon. Now that she had her, she would never give her up for anything. If anything or anyone would try to harm her or take her away from her, she would absolutely tear them apart.

Bellatrix let out a sigh and sat up, avoiding Hermione's questioning gaze. If this relationship was to last, she needed to do one more thing, though she dreaded it beyond anything else. "Hermione," she started, her voice soft and low. "You deserve to know the truth."

The dark witch shared a brief look with a now curious Hermione. Terry MacDiarmid had steered her towards this path. His words rang hollow in her mind: ' _Bellatrix, if you want to break with the past, you need to confront it. Let no traces linger'_. Still, that wouldn't make this any easier.

"I lied to you. I lied to everyone," she started. "I told you and the others that I was a soldier. That was only a half-truth. Everybody assumed that I was a hero fighting a tyrant and I didn't bother to correct them. But the real truth is that I fought _for_ the tyrant. In my world. I wasn't a soldier. I was... an enforcer, for lack of a better term. I served a dark master without question. I hurt people and did so gleefully. I've killed and tortured in his name."

Bellatrix was almost afraid to meet Hermione's gaze. The fear of rejection was simply too great. Instead she saw sympathy in her eyes. Worry. Concern.

Love.

"I've hated people... people like you. Mudb... Muggle-borns for the pettiest of reasons. I've done terrible things."

"I don't care. It doesn't matter," said Hermione. "You're here now. You're with me. You don't have to do those things anymore."

"There is another truth you deserve to know," Bellatrix added. "When you asked me if I had met your counterpart in my world, I lied as well. I have met the other you. I hated her. I hurt her. I hurt her badly. And I enjoyed doing it," Bellatrix spoke softly.

Though the act of confession felt oddly freeing, there was another feeling which overcame her. A feeling she had rarely experienced in her life.

Shame.

Hermione remained silently for a moment, eyes looking up at the stars for a moment. "I am not that girl," replied Hermione. "That was someone else."

That much was true. The dark witch often had to remind herself that the Hermione in front of her was not the same girl she had tortured so badly. Still, that small technicality did little for her.

"You don't have an inkling of the things I'm capable of," Bellatrix whispered back. "The things I've done..."

"Oh, I have a good imagination," said Hermione. "We all have our dark sides, you perhaps more than most. But when I look at you, I see so much courage, passion and love also. Don't let your past weigh down your present. Or your future."

Bellatrix looked away from Hermione, her gaze settling on the stars above while pulling her knees to her legs. "You really are a dreamer, Hermione. And I hope you never change."

"Hey," whispered Hermione, the younger witch pressing her body against her back and gently kissing her on the shoulder. "I know you don't hate me and I won't believe for one second that you would ever want to hurt me."

Bellatrix closed her eyes as Hermione wrapped her arms around her waist.

"Thank you for telling me. It must have been so difficult, but in the end it doesn't matter. Look, you've been given a second chance. And you grasped it with both hands. What happened before isn't important. You're here now. I'm here now. And if you're trying to scare me off, it's not working. You're stuck with me, lady!" Hermione spoke resolutely.

That made Bellatrix laugh in spite of herself. "What have I done to deserve you?" she whispered.

"Oh, nothing special," said Hermione, her hand reaching out to her lover's chin, gently forcing the dark witch to look her in the eye. "You only traveled through time and space, did the impossible by crossing the barrier between dimensions, basically changed your entire core belief system and managed to do so with style. You know, insignificant tiny little things like that."

Bellatrix laughed again when she saw the twinkle in Hermione's eyes. "I suppose I did have a lot of help."

"Good," said Hermione, laying back on the tarp. "Now draw me something nice. Uhm... how about..."

The girl stretched, laying on her side folding her arms upward and curling one leg up while pushing her chest forward. "... you draw me like you draw one of those French girls."

Drawing Hermione in a sexy pose? Bellatrix certainly approved when the charcoal started sliding over a blank page.


	16. A Piece of the Action

Today was the first day of the new school year. Along with the rest of the staff, Bellatrix had arrived a few days early to take the school out of lockdown and prepare for the arrival of the students. Of course, she had also returned all the equipment she had taken from the storage, with the exception of the dissiminator, in the deepest of secret and had been sure to cover her tracks carefully.

Hermione had returned with her. The girl had made herself useful by helping out and spent her evenings and nights with Bellatrix at the caretaker's shack. And that was where they were now: lazying in bed. The dark witch was holding a snoozing Hermione close to her, in her arms.

She smiled to herself. If there's one thing she had learned, it was that Hermione loved to cuddle and that hadn't been a night that she'd been able to keep to her own side of the bed. Not that Bellatrix minded, of course. All her life she had had this unrelenting longing for closeness and all her life she had been denied this simple pleasure. But all that had changed: she stroked a hand through Hermione's silky long brown hair as the girl lay pressed against her. The young witch was so generous with her affections that Bellatrix felt much like a pauper experiencing wealth for the first time in her life.

And that made getting out of bed all that much harder.

"Pet?" she whispered. "Time to get up."

"Noooooooo," Hermione protested sleepily. "Bed is so soft! You are so soft! Wanna lie here with you forever."

"I'll be late for work and you'll be late for class," Bellatrix whispered. "Do you really want to end up in detention on your first day?"

Hermione grinned, her eyes still closed. "Detention with miss Black sounds nice. I'd just love to serve detention _under_ her."

"Truly?" Bellatrix raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure? I've heard miss Black is really tough on misbehaving tardy students. And she's not easily distracted by naughty red underwear."

"Hmmm, that's a lie," Hermione chuckled sleepily now. "She might seem tough, but I happen to know that deep down she's just the sweetest. And she loves to take off naughty red underwear with her teeth."

Bellatrix snorted. Though she didn't quite agree with the first part of that statement, it was hard to deny the second part since, well, a naughty red bra and a naughty red pair of knickers in Hermione's size were now lying on the ground next to the bed.

"Hmmm..." Hermione stirred. "You know what I think? I've been such a bad, bad girl. I think detention isn't enough. I think... I think I'm going to have to be _spanked_."

"Hah," Bellatrix kissed her forehead. "Is sex all you ever think of?"

Hermione's eyes fluttered open, her arms snaking around Bellatrix a little tighter. "Sex!" she stated. "Yes, more of that, please."

Bellatrix managed to disentangle herself from the sleepy younger witch and slipped out of bed, reaching for her bathrobe. "Come on," she demanded. "Up, up!"

"Noooo!" Hermione protested sleepily, stuffing her head under her pillow. "You're meeeaaannn!"

"I thought you said that deep down, I was just the sweetest," Bellatrix spoke with a mocking tone.

"Nrgh, you want me to get out of bed," Hermione muttered, her voice muffled from the pillow. "You're pure evil!"

"Classes start in an hour and if we don't hurry, we'll both be late for breakfast," said Bellatrix. "New first years are coming in this evening and there's loads of preparations to do for the sorting ceremony."

"Sod the first years!"

Bellatrix took this moment to pull the duvet off the bed, exposing as hissing Hermione to the cold air. For good measure, she gave her girl a playful smack on the bum.

"Don't tease!" Hermione demanded.

"Out!" Bellatrix demanded. "Some of us have to work for a living."

"No!" Hermione protested and, if she could have, she would have stuffed her whole body underneath her pillow. "And you can't make me!"

A wicked grin came to Bellatrix as she leaned in, let her hands run over Hermione's bare back, her bum and the back of her legs. "If you get out of bed, I'll soap you up in the shower..." she purred.

As it turned out, Hermione had only needed the right incentive to get out of bed this morning.

* * *

The first day was rife with bustle with students mulling back and forth and heading to their first classes of the day. But before starting her work, Bellatrix had an appointment with the Head Master. On her way there, she actually passed an idea she had had which would make her life as caretaker considerably easier: a notice pinboard located in the courtyard, which was a busy thoroughfare during classes. The pinboard contained a warning section, a Lost and Found section and a general section.

The warning section currently only held a warning about Old Shrieking Sarah and the firm suggestion to stay within Hogwarts limits during the darker hours. Bellatrix was quite proud of herself by the rather graphic description of the damage a banshee scream could do to a human body. She was particularly fond of the 'clawing at your own oozing exploded eyeballs while your brain starts melting inside your skull' bit.

The general section would allow her to post notifications of parts of the school which were currently off limits or closed off for maintenance. There was only one item up there currently.

As for the Lost and Found section, she had set up a wooden box near the front door of her shack where students could drop off things they had found lying about. A few curious students reading the board waited for her to pin up the first Lost and Found items.

One wand, ten inches, walnut, dragon heart-string. Seriously, who loses his or her wand literally the first hour of school?!

One toad with a nametag reading 'Trevor'.

One remember-all. Ironic, really.

One plastic muggle music box with earbuds.

One deck of playing cards with pictures of witches in various sexy poses wearing naughty lingerie. She was interested to see who would stop by to pick those up. And if nobody did, she was quite sure Hermione would love to have them.

A few moments later, she arrived at the Head Master's office. One the sudden changes this year, once which caught most of the staff by surprise and certainly the students, was the announcement that Aberforth Dumbledore had decided to retire and spend some free time in his garden tending to his goats, leaving Snape to be instated as his successor.

Truth be told, that had been a bit of a surprise. Over the summer, she had been too focused on her own healing, her blossoming relationship with Hermione and the experiments to pay much attention to the news, but Riddle and Hagrid had been kind enough to fill her in: apparently the Ministry had been unhappy with Dumbledore's performance as Head Master for some time and Arthur Weasley had finally started to make his big push to oust the man. After weeks of hearings, Dumbledore suddenly announced his retirement and that was that. Things were about to change at Hogwarts, that was certain.

Snape had apparently wasted no time with the first change of his regime: getting rid of all the goat-statues and making the office considerably tidier. It left more room for bookstacks and allowed for more light to come in through the windows without being blocked by a taxdermied mountain goat. That said, the office lacked any personal touch outside of a few family pictures of him, Lily and Maisie.

"Ah, miss Black," greeted Snape. "Thank you for coming. First of all, I'm quite pleased you've decided to stay on for another year."

Bellatrix sat down in the chair opposite to him as Snape sat down behind his desk. "I understand congratulations are in order."

"Thank you," replied Snape, stroking his ring-beard for a moment while seeming contemplative.

"There's more going on here, isn't there?"

"Perceptive," he nodded. "Truth be told, there's a reason why Dumbledore is no longer Head Master. The number of scandals during his tenure has been exceedingly high and his position as Head Master has been precarious for years. The educational quality of our school has suffered, as has our prestige. It had reached a point that many parents prefer to send their students abroad to Durmstrang or even Ilvermorny."

"I'm surprised Weasley allowed you to take over the position," said Bellatrix. "He never was your biggest fan."

"He was the one who recommended me for the job," said Snape. "Arthur Weasley is many things, but he is quite concerned about the quality of our school and our students' safety. He tasked me 'unfuck the mess Dumbledore left in wake'. His words, not mine. For now, let me worry about the Weasleys of the world."

"So why am I here right now?" Bellatrix asked.

"For the last ten years, the number of student deaths has broken record numbers. A very grisly record, I'm sure you agree. One of my assigned tasks is to significantly lower this number before the end of the year," said Snape.

Bellatrix smirked wickedly. "Does that mean people will finally start listening to my warnings about that old banshee roaming about at night?"

An annoyed lock crossed Snape's features. "I assure you, some _did_ listen. I've allocated some of the budget to have areas on the Hogwarts ground warded. The Hogsmeade town council will do the same for the town."

Bellatrix replied with approval. "Very efficient."

Snape nodded in response to the compliment. "In fact, I'm installing a Hogwarts Health and Safety Council and I'm hoping that you, in your role as caretaker, will accept a seat. It will mean extra work after hours, but you'll be duly compensated, of course."

"Who are the other members?" Bellatrix asked.

"Myself and Lily, obviously," said Snape. "Hagrid and Dolohov have also agreed to take a seat on the council."

"I do have an item for the first meeting. I've closed off access to the top floor of the west tower for the time being due to problems with the safety railing," said Bellatrix.

"Which is?"

"The problem is that the safety railing is currently located next to the foot of the tower. And since we can't trust the students..."

"... to have the wisdom to not plummet to their own deaths, we should see to its repair quickly," Snape finished for her.

"Took the words right out of my mouth," Bellatrix cackled.

"You'll make a fine addition," Snape nodded in approval. "However, there is a point I need to discuss with you. About your relationship with miss Granger."

Instantly, Bellatrix rose from her seat, placed both hands on the desk and leaned forward to glare Snape in the eye. "I won't give her up! And if you ask me too, I'll be happy to hand you my resignation right here, right now!"

Snape held up his hands."Nothing quite as drastic, miss Black. I simply ask you to be at least somewhat discrete," he said. "Relationships between students are not frowned upon as long as said student is of age, which miss Granger is. However, I am concerned about accusations of favoritism which might be bad for both you and miss Granger. I went through this myself last year concerning my own daughter and treated her unbecoming a father because of it. It's a fine line to walk."

"So what do you expect me to do?" asked Bellatrix.

"We won't ask," said Snape. "You don't tell. If someone asks you to confirm the 'rumor' that you and miss Granger are involved, simply deny it or don't answer the question at all. I will ask miss Granger to do the same later today."

"I suppose I can live with that," Bellatrix replied.

"And perhaps you should consider not sharing you would like to keep private with Hagrid?" said Snape. "He's a big man with a big mouth."

"I'll keep that in mind too," said Bellatrix as she got up to leave. "If that is all, I still have a lot of preparations to make for the sorting ceremony tonight."

"Oh, one more thing before you leave," said Snape as he was looking through a few more papers. "A magical disseminator has gone missing."

Bellatrix kept her expression as neutral as possible. "Oh?" she asked carefully.

"Hm," said Snape. "Merula wanted to check one of the machines out of storage for an experiment she is running, but found it missing. She found another one for her experiment, but that does not solve the core problem. I decided to run through the logs and it was supposedly checked out by Blishen for the Magic Theory classroom before the start of summer and never returned. Of course, when I went by the classroom, it wasn't there."

Typical. Snape took office and discovered a piece of missing equipment in one day. Bellatrix didn't know if she could curse Snape for his competence or herself for not covering her tracks better.

"Now, it's not the first time someone forgets to check out or check in a piece of equipment in the log. Or perhaps someone simply borrowed it without mention," Snape shook his head. "This happens daily. However, this is a rather expensive and delicate piece of equipment and I would very much like it found. If you would keep an eye out for the machine during your rounds, I'd very much appreciate it."

"Of course," said Bellatrix. "It's a big school, though. And you know as well as I that these pieces of equipment get spread around."

"Your duties take precedence, naturally," said Snape.

Her next stop were the goblin support crew. Even though she had only been part of the Hogwarts staff for a month or so before the end of the last school year, she had gotten to know the goblins quite well. They ran the kitchen, kept the grounds and tended to the greenhouse and generally worked with Bellatrix for larger maintenance projects. Where the Hogwarts had a small army of house-elves, there were only about two dozen goblins on staff. The reason for this was two-fold: Goblins actually expected to be paid and they were rather good at negotiating their contracts.

Bellatrix had to admit that she rather liked the goblins. Unlike the pathetic, simpering and obsequious house-elves, the goblins were straight-forward salt of the earth workers who were coarse and direct and had a tendency to tell everyone around them exactly what they thought of them. There was not a snowball's chance in hell that any of these goblins would ever clean up after a student and then thank them for the privilege.

Truth be told, Bellatrix had never really appreciate just how many work went into preparing the sorting ceremony. The students would arrive tonight in the evening and would be taken from the station to the school via the lake, so there needed to be enough boats. Said boats needed to be lit with magical lanterns, which all had to be individually enchanted. Charms needed to be placed on the boots to keep curious merfolk from tipping them over. Also, safety procedures needed to be adhered in case a new student still managed to fall overboard somehow.

Student seating had to be planned out carefully for the evening, as there should be enough empty seats at all the house tables for the new students. The hat needed to be dusted off and its pedestal prepared. Not to mention that sleeping arrangements had to be made in all four houses. Complicating all this was that there was no way to know up front how many new students would end up in which house and historically the division of students could be notoriously lopsided. She and the goblins needed to be prepared for all possible outcomes.

And then there was the matter of the great welcoming feast, which would keep the majority of the goblin staff busy.

It was all a bit overwhelming, but Bellatrix wasn't one to simply let things grow over her head. Blacks excel at everything, was her family's mantra, and she was determined to give the new students the best sorting ceremony experience of the decade. So focused was she on the itinerary that she failed to notice the room growing considerably colder.

"Bella!" sounded the familiar voice of her younger self as the ghost girl came floating through the walls. In response, Bellatrix almost jumped out of her skin.

Equally startled, embarrassed and angry at being embarrassed, Bellatrix put her hands to her hips and glared at her. "Don't sneak up on witches like that!" she growled. "You're up late. It's just past noon."

"I can't sleep! I'm so excited!" replied Ghost-Bella, doing a barrel-roll while zipping about the room for good measure. She stopped and floated in front of Bellatrix, puffing up her chest. "I've been promoted! You are now looking at the official Ravenclaw house ghost!"

"Oh?" Bellatrix crossed her arm. "I didn't realize you were Ravenclaw."

"Well, of course I was," said Ghost-Bellatrix.

"I'm just surprised," replied Bellatrix. "Considering your 'heroics', I suspected you might have been Gryffindor."

"The fact that I am a ghost might be a clue that I'm not that brave at all," Ghost-Bella replied.

"Or Hufflepuff then."

"Oh, now you're just being mean!" Ghost-Bellatrix pouted. "Anyway, you are not going to ruin my good mood today!"

"What happened to The Grey Lady?"

"Who?" Ghost-Bella frowned. "Never heard of her."

"She's the Ravenclaw house ghost. Has been for hundreds of years."

"What? Have you hit your head?" Ghost-Bella crossed her arms, looking rather huffy. "John Dee was the Ravenclaw house ghost for the last 400 years or so. He's a nice man with loads of interesting stories to tell and he showed me the ropes when I first came back as a ghost. But he sort of retired and asked the Ministry to be re-fettered to the Charles Bridge in Prague. He always went on about how much he missed the place."

"Well, in any case, congratulations," she spoke. "That also means you're now a part of the sorting ceremony night. I take it you will approach that with the same enthusiasm?"

"Okay, boss!" Ghost-Bella saluted playfully. "What do you need me to do?"

Bellatrix picked up the itinerary and looked it over, letting her finger slide over the time-stamps. "I need you and the other house ghosts to come swooping in from the eastern part of the Great Hall during a specific point of Snape's welcoming speech. When Snape speaks the words 'As well as a contingent of house ghosts to see to your comforts during your first days...' the four of you swoop in and fly over the tables. Just make a bit of a show, do a loop-the-loop or whatever. Impress the new kids."

"That I can do," replied Ghost-Bellatrix.

"Great," said Bellatrix. "I'll be along later tonight when the other ghosts are up."

Any further conversation was nipped in the bud when a rather burly goblin chef came rushing towards her. "Oi!" he shouted. "Get outta here, ye nippy bint! Yer colder than a well-digger's arse and yer starting to put out our fires! Don't ye know we have a feast to prepare?! No fires means no feast and a lot of crying hungry kids!"

"Man has a point," Bellatrix raised an eyebrow.

"Ugh, fine!" Ghost-Bellatrix rolled her eyes. "Later."

"Oh, and if you see Hermione, tell her to meet me for a smoke-break at the jetty later!"

"I will!"

Just as well. Bellatrix still had loads of things to prepare. Next item: hanging up the house banners.

* * *

A visit to the infirmary was in order when Bellatrix had a free moment in between the planning stages for the sorting ceremony. Lily had asked her to come back after summer for a check up and did so diligently while the two of them chatted.

"You must be pleased with your husband's promotion," said Bellatrix as Lily roved her wand above her body when she was lying on the examination table.

"Pleased and worried in equal amounts," replied Lily. "Naturally, he was ecstatic when he was given this chance, but almost immediately he started overdoing it again. You might have noticed a lot of new faces among the teachers, and roles have been shifted around at the last moment. That's going to give this school term some nasty start-up issues. And that's not the end of it. He's determined to fix Hogwarts' reputation."

"And then some," said Bellatrix. "Though I suppose a Health and Safety Council isn't a bad start."

"Ah, he asked you then. Good. Severus has been given his tasks, true," said Lily. "But I see it as my task to make sure he keeps his feet firmly planted on the ground and doesn't end up turning the entire Hogwarts staff against him when he will inevitably become far too draconian."

Bellatrix chuckled. "If he's anything like the Severus I know, you'll have quite the task ahead of you. I suppose the saying is true: behind every powerful man stands a strong woman."

"Hah," Lily smiled. "I'd like to think of myself as standing right next to him, really. I'm also simply happy that Maisie doesn't resent him for what happened last term. Of all the weeks we've spent together in Norway, Severus has been the perfect father. Reading stories every day, taking her out for walks, teaching her new spells. Severus tends to overcompensate when someone shows him the error of his ways. He's grateful to you, though he'll never actually say it."

Lily finished her examination and jotted down some words on a chart. After calculating some of her findings, she motioned Bellatrix to get up from the examination table. "You're in peak physical health," said Lily. "You've kept up with your healthy diet for the most part and it looks like you're getting regular exercise. Are you getting enough sleep?"

"When Hermione doesn't keep me up, certainly," Bellatrix replied.

"Heh," Lily chuckled. "Like I said, plenty of regular exercise. But to try to sleep a full eight hours a night. Any more nightmares?" Lily asked. "Physically, you're fine. More than fine, but..."

"I'm still a basket case, you mean to say?" Bellatrix challenged, only half joking.

"Not quite as harsh as that," Lily put down the chart and took a seat opposite to Bellatrix. "I mean, physically there's no longer any signs of your time spent in that POW camp, but not all wounds are physical, now are they? I've been talking to Terry, though. He said you're making good progress."

"I suppose I am," she muttered. "Been having a lot less nightmares lately, so perhaps that's a good sign."

"In any case, I'm happy to see you're adjusting well to living in our brave new world," said Lily. "Though I suppose Hermione has a lot to do with that."

Bellatrix sighed and rolled her eyes. "Hagrid told everyone, didn't he?"

"Hagrid did," Lily confirmed with a grin. "Never tell that man anything, Bella."

The dark witch shook her head. "I'll never know why she chose me."

"First time I met Hermione was when she stepped off the Hogwarts express," said Lily, rubbing her chin in remembrance. "She was just the saddest and loneliest little girl you could ever imagine, standing there with her dog and holding that little suitcase of hers and that little backpack strapped to her back. Merlin, she had everything she owned in there. I know as a magical orphan, she gets a stipend from the Ministry every month, but I can't imagine that being much of a consolation at the time. When it came to the sorting ceremony, she just had this harrowing blank expression on her face. All the other kids were so excited, but she? Not even when it was her turn to take the hat. That blank expression never changed. When the other children left the Great Hall, she just kept sitting in her chair. I finally couldn't take it anymore, scooped her up to hold her tightly to my chest and told her everything was going to be alright. Hermione didn't stop crying for an hour."

"Your point?" Bellatrix asked.

"Point is," Lily smiled warmly. "She came to Hogwarts after such tragedy in her life and felt so lost, like a fish out of water. I think she might have seen the same in you when you first came here and decided to pay a simple act of kindness forward. It's said that lonely souls are attracted to each other, after all."

Lonely souls?

Perhaps Lily was right.

"Not so lonely anymore," Bellatrix whispered to herself.

* * *

Bellatrix ended the evening quite pleased with herself. The sorting ceremony was executed perfectly and to the letter. No issues, no problems, no students falling out the boats, the ghosts appeared on cue and the new first years were all suitably impressed. She'd ended some of the evening having a drink with the rest of the staff, including the goblins, and Snape had given both her and the goblins his compliments for a job well done: praise was rare from the likes of Snape.

Oddly enough, she hadn't seen Hermione all day. They had agreed to meet in the afternoon at the jetty for a smoke in between classes but she had never shown up. Come to think, she hadn't seen her during the sorting ceremony either.

Thankfully, she didn't have to look far for her young love, for when she opened the door to her shack, she found Hermione sitting on the sofa. Immediately, Bellatrix knew that something was off. Hermione had thrown her robe halfway across the room and apparently her wand in a different direction. She sat on the sofa was pursed lips while spread out next to her lay Spock, his head in Hermione's lap as he was being stroked.

Hermione looked up. Her face lit up, but it was easy to see by her red eyes that she had been crying.

"Pet?" Bellatrix asked when she hung her cloak from the hook next to the door. "What's wrong?"

"That gormless ponce Snape, that's what's wrong!" Hermione spat out. "He had the gall! The gall to ask me to deny our relationship if anyone asked! I told him I wanted to cry to the heavens about us! He told me to be discrete and asked if I would consider starting to sleep at my dorm room again. And then I told him where he could stick his discretion. AND his dorm room!"

"Hm," Bellatrix snorted and sat down next to her, putting an arm around her shoulders and giving her a cuddle. "Of course you did."

"So he gave me detention. With Dolohov. I spent almost two hours beating the dust out of old carpets with a thousand year old carpet-beater," Hermione pouted. "And tomorrow I'm going to have to do it again. Fuck my life!"

"Cigarette?" Bellatrix asked and offered her girlfriend a smoke. "Parkinson had fresh stock in."

"Oh, you have no idea how much I need one right now," said Hermione when she took the cigarette and allowed Bellatrix to light it for her. The dark witch lit one herself and together they took a few drags. Hermione was visibly calmer, but not anywhere near alright.

"Why didn't you just lie to him? Or placated him?" Bellatrix asked. "Would have made things easier for yourself."

"Because!" Hermione replied, taking another puff. "For some things you just have to take a stand! You... you don't think our relationship is worth fighting for?"

The hurt in Hermione's voice was obvious and Bellatrix couldn't help but lay her head backwards on the headrest to let out a silent groan. Her girlfriend was really showing her age here: it was either one thing or the other, with no form of nuance in between.

"Take a stand for what?!" Bellatrix chuckled. "Snape is perfectly fine with us being together! He's just asking that we don't add too much fuel to the fire!"

"But he asked me to..."

"... think of it from his perspective," said Bellatrix. "He's been instated as Head Master to basically get the school's problems under control and he has to be on guard for _any_ potential scandal. But on the grand scale of things, an accusation of favoritism is nothing compared to death rates, teen pregnancies, unlicensed teachers and clandestine lobby groups! He'll ask for more than he expects to get. That's how the game is played. You should be more Slytherin about this, pet."

"I'm not Slytherin," Hermione replied.

"That much is obvious," replied Bellatrix. "Are you sure you're Ravenclaw? Because the move you pulled is boneheaded enough to be thoroughly Gryffindor!"

Hermione huffed and gave her the cutest angry pout she had ever seen. "Well, that's nice!" she glowered.

"If you were Slytherin, you could have walked out of that office with a bag of gold and a new broom if you wanted to, but instead you ended up with detention for two days and a far worse position to negotiate from! Look, here's what we'll do. I'll have a chat with him tomorrow, tell that you misunderstood and reacted out of passion. Then you will go in to apologize."

"I will not!" Hermione huffed. "I will not apologize for defending our relationship!"

"You will not apologize for defending our relationship," said Bellatrix. "But you _will_ apologize for telling him to stuff his head up his own bum."

"I... URGH!" Hermione groaned and leaned over to put out her cigarette in the ashtray. "Fine!"

"Just placate him and try not to cause any trouble for him and we'll be absolutely fine, no matter where you sleep," said Bellatrix. "Remember, he's my employer and your Head Master. It behooves us to stay on his good side."

Hermione pouted, reluctantly agreeing. "I hate this place," she spoke softly. "I don't want to be here anymore. It's not fair, you know? I'll be twenty soon. There's people my age in the muggle world who already graduated, who have started a career and are living on their own! All I have is this stupid stick of wood and I can't even use it well! Maybe I should just drop out. It's not like I can get any worse at magic!"

"You won't," Bellatrix said, pulling the girl a little closer to let her vent.

"All because life decided to throw me this magical curve-ball," Hermione muttered. "What if the programs for muggleborns wanting to return to the muggle world after Hogwarts didn't exist, hm? What then? I'd be even further behind with my life! What vocational school would have me without any form of proper muggle education? Being eight years away from the muggle world throwing up these enormous roadblocks for the rest of my life?! Oh hey, congratulations, you can do magic. Now spend a mandatory eight years at this hellhole of a school... oh, you want to go back to the muggle world? Well you can, but we'll make it so goddamn difficult for you that you have effectively no choice but to continue your magical life. This magical school isn't a blessing, it's a prison!"

Hermione leaned against Bellatrix while stroking her dog with one hand. "Sometimes I wish I never was a magical child."

"We never would have met," Bellatrix spoke matter-of-factly. "You never would have met your friends. Or Narcissa and Lucius."

"There are... good things to it too, yes," Hermione related.

"Trust me, pet, I know all about hellholes and prisons," Bellatrix smirked at her. "So unless Hogwarts is equivalent to spending almost fifteen years trapped and chained on a grey rock surrounded by dementors, I don't want to hear about who has it hard."

Hermione nodded. "That... does put things in perspective."

"Feel better?"

"Better. I'll tell you one thing, though," Hermione grinned. "I am going to sleep right here. In this shack. Tonight and every night. In _our_ bed! "

"Right you are," Bellatrix kissed the top of her head. "Hm, I just had a thought. Do you have those metal working tools of yours at hand?"

"Sure," replied Hermione. "Why?"

Bellatrix gave her a half-smile. "Just had a thought. Tomorrow you will apologize to Snape and offer to weld the guard railing on the west tower back in place. Everybody wins: you get to make nice with Snape, you will get to do something you love and I get to open the top floor of the west tower without the risk of students falling to their deaths."

Hermione cocked her head sideways and gave her a smirk. "How very... Slytherin of you."

"It's in my blood," Bellatrix shrugged.

The two witches snuggled for a moment, forgetting the vagaries of the day, until Spock suddenly jumped off the sofa and started whining softly. It didn't take long for the source of the dog's fear to show itself: Ghost-Bella came flying through the wall and hovered in the middle of the living room.

"Uhm, hello. Sorry to just barge in, but," she pursed her lips. "I really need your help."

* * *

And so Bellatrix and Hermione found themselves at the edge of the Forbidden Forest, much closer to Hogwarts grounds that Bellatrix would have liked. The reason for that was down in the glen they were looking down into from the hill they were standing on. There, in the distance, roamed a familiar banshee. Basking in the light of the moon, the banshee floated a few inches off the ground. Long black hair waved over a tattered black robe as the spectral entity wandered aimlessly among the trees.

Meanwhile, Ghost-Bella was lying on her stomach as she regarded the spirit with a forlorn, longing look in her eyes. She rested her arms on her elbows and her head in her hands as she smiled, ignoring the ice-crystals forming underneath her.

"Why are we here?" Bellatrix asked carefully.

"I think I know why," smiled Hermione.

"I spotted her a few days ago," said Ghost-Bellatrix. "Been coming back here every night just to admire her. Look at the way her hair sways in the breeze. How the light of the moon reflects off her skeletal features. How I could just drown forever in those black, empty eyesockets..."

"Wait, what?!" Bellatrix blinked.

"Aw, how sweet!" Hermione smiled.

"Let me wrap my head around this," said Bellatrix. "You are romantically attracted to Old Shrieking Sarah?"

Ghost-Bellatrix nodded her head slightly. "But... she doesn't even know I exist..." she spoke in a pathetically small voice.

"It's cute," Hermione smiled. "I also think it's really funny that the older you is attracted to younger women and the younger you is attracted to older women. You really are like a mirror to each other."

"Also, I'm not dead," Bellatrix pressed. "Regardless, we have a love-sick puppy on our hands and a lethal banshee that's never been this close to school grounds. She's beyond the warded area! How is that even possible?!"

"Uhm..." Ghost-Bellatrix muttered. "I, uhm, might have, uhm, you know, frozen and shattered those wards."

"You did what?!" Bellatrix shouted. "Are you actively trying to get people killed?! Because this is how you get people killed!"

"Keep it down, you two," Hermione said, looking over the ridge. "Or Sarah might hear us."

Ghost-Bella sighed. "I just... wanted to be closer to her. Maybe... maybe she'll float into me one day."

"Bella," Bellatrix pressed. "She's a _banshee_."

"Why don't you just go down and talk to her?" Hermione suggested.

Bellatrix frowned. "I'm not sure that's such a good idea, pet. Banshees are known to be very territorial."

"Nonsense," said Hermione. "Bella, why don't you go down there and talk to her. She'll never know you exist if you don't introduce yourself."

"But... what would I ever say to her?"

Bellatrix rolled her eyes. "This is the girl who lectured me about my love-life," she threw up her hands.

"That was different," Ghost-Bellatrix protested. "That was you. This is me!"

Hermione sat next to the ghost-girl and gave her a warm smile. "Hey. Just be yourself. We all like you, Bella. Just go down into the glen and introduce yourself. How can she not like you?"

Bellatrix resisted the urge to face-palm; what Hermione had just said was charmingly yet epicly naive.

"You're right!" said Ghost-Bellatrix with newfound confidence. "I can do it! I'm going down there and introduce myself to Shrieking Sarah!"

"That's the spirit," Hermione smiled when the confident ghost girl floated off the ledge right into the glen. Bellatrix looked on, just shaking her head and being quite sure that this was just going to end badly. Her thoughts were proven to be prophetic when a loud wail pierced the air. Fortunately, both witches were far enough away for the scream to not be lethal, but it did leave Bellatrix with ringing in her ears and left her wondering if there was still some enamel left on her teeth.

"Oh," Hermione cringed, hissing through clenched teeth. "That didn't go very well."

Soon enough, an inconsolable ghost girl returned to the hill and sat down on the ground, hugging her knees to her chest and bawling her ghostly eyes out. "She hates me!" Ghost-Bella sobbed. "She hates me!"

Hermione toyed with the idea of putting a hand on her shoulder, but changed her mind before her skin could freeze. Bellatrix sighed heavily: deep down, her ghostly counterpart was still a seventeen year old girl, complete with all the insecurities which came with that age. And she would remain so forever.

"What?" Bellatrix crossed her arms and gave the girl a stern look. "You're just going to give up? After one try? That's pathetic!"

"But... she _hates_ me," the ghost girl sobbed pathetically.

"Do you think I would ever have been with Hermione if _she_ had given up after one try?" Bellatrix pressed. "Do you?"

"Yeah," Hermione laughed. "I really had to work for it. But now we're both so happy."

"Sure, rub it in," Ghost-Bella muttered.

"Point is," said Bellatrix. "You've got to work for it to. That old Banshee down there probably hasn't interacted with anyone for decades. You'll have to approach her carefully and keep trying. You'll catch her attention eventually."

"How about a nice gift?" ask Hermione. "That might cause her to warm up to you. Hm, what do banshees even like? I don't think a bouquet of flowers will do the trick."

"A fresh, bloodied heart," said Bellatrix. "Banshees are angry spirits. The heart of a fresh kill will likely soothe her."

"Hm," said Ghost-Bellatrix. "Are there any students you don't like?"

"Uhm, I have a better idea," said Hermione. "I'll pick up a fresh pig's heart from the butcher's in Dufftown next time I go. You could offer it to Sarah in the glen. See how she reacts!"

"Oh, that would be great!" replied Ghost-Bella, now smiling again.

"It's close to midnight, pet," said Bellatrix. "Time for us to go home and get to bed. And for Merlin's sake, stop snap-freezing the wards!"

Ghost-Bella saluted again. "Yes, boss!"


	17. Return to Tomorrow

Now that school term was in full swing, service-requests were pouring in at a steady rate and there were certainly enough to fill Bellatrix's day. The first few were simple and quick enough to handle: fixing a few broken glass panes in the greenhouse and helping Hagrid to get an escaped Blast-Ended Skrewt under control. Her next request led her to the Muggle Studies classroom for the installation of a magical lock.

Class was in between sessions and, outside of the teacher, the classroom was unoccupied. The room itself was adorned with all manner of muggle contraptions with uses Bellatrix couldn't even start to guess toward. She did, however, recognize the model of a muggle airplane which was mounted on the ceiling, though she questioned the wisdom of naming a supposedly flying aircraft a 'Boing'. It wasn't exactly a name which inspired confidence.

"Ah!" said Tom as he noticed her entering the classroom. "Bellatrix, thank you for coming so quickly."

"Your request said something about installing a lock?" asked Bellatrix.

"Ah, yes," spoke the muggle studies teacher as he led her to another part of the room. In the room stood another one of those magical faraday cages, obviously of Hermione's design and construction. It surrounded a series of desks containing five machines with a large glass eye resembling the muggle television she had seen, but they were stood upon a platform. In front of the platform lay a board containing plastic teeth with individual letters and numbers on them.

"I think Hermione told me about those machines," said Bellatrix. "Putcompers or somesuch?"

"Oh, they are wonderful inventions," said Riddle. "And a boon to my class. You see, the muggles invented this amazing thing called the Internet. Imagine a whole network of these computers all communicating. The perfect tool for students doing research on muggle society."

"So why the lock on the door?" Bellatrix asked. "Are you afraid the students will steal them?"

"No," Riddle said, lowering his voice a little. "Some of the students have been caught using the computers to view..." he looked around the room to see if they were truly alone. "... _pornographic materials_ after curfew hours!"

Bellatrix snorted. "You don't say! Hormone-addled teens wanting to watch naked people. How surprising."

"If the Daily Prophet gets wind of this..." Riddle rubbed his temples. "Snape's coming down hard on any potential scandals and I really don't want to have to get rid of these machines."

"Say no more," Bellatrix said and produced the locking mechanism she had picked up from the storeroom from her workbag. The lock was quickly installed and Bellatrix took her leave from a rather relieved looking Tom Riddle.

There was a bit of a lull in service-requests and the dark witch decided a bit of a break was in order. So, she decided to check up on Hermione on the west tower roof. Once she arrived there, she found Hermione clad in coveralls and a welding-mask, putting the finishing touched on securing the now freshly repaired guard rail. Bellatrix looked away, remembering Hermione's dire warning of never looking directly at the welding torch she was holding without protective eye-gear.

"That looks fine," said Bellatrix, announcing herself as soon as Hermione took off her mask. The young witch pushed against the guard rail with all her might for good measure, and never did it once budge.

"There you go," Hermione smiled. "A flock of stampeding hippogryffs couldn't dislodge this thing. Smoke break?"

Both Bellatrix and Hermione leaned against the guard rail, each puffing away on a freshly lit cigarette.

"Well, you were right," Hermione leaned into her, soft hairs spreading on her shoulder.

"Hm, my four favorite words in the English language," Bellatrix smirked.

"Oh, bugger off," Hermione rolled her eyes. "Snape canceled my detention, accepted my apology and was quite grateful for my offer to fix the guard rail. Everything's just peachy. Just like you said."

"Honestly, you should learn to better read the room," Bellatrix pressed. "And take advantage where you can. Standing up for what you believe in might be considered admirable by some, but it doesn't always get you the best result."

"Should have remembered Ferengi Rule of Acquisition number nine," said Hermione. " _Opportunity plus Instinct equals Profit_. Seriously, Quark would have made for a good Slytherin. And you, Bella, would have made for a good Ferengi. Your ears are a bit too small, though."

"Wha..." Bellatrix threw her hands up. "What does all of that even _mean_?! Seriously, Hermione, sometimes you're just a complete enigma!"

Hermione laughed heartily at that. "For now, I'll just say that it was a compliment for you, a lesson learned for me and leave it at that. Uhm, I do have a question for you, though."

The way Hermione was hesitant to ask her question while nibbling on her bottom lip made Bellatrix a bit wary about what to expect. "Go on..." the dark witch muttered through a mostly closed mouth.

"Rugnarok practice starts next week," Hermione turned to her. "I'd really like it if you'd come to watch and cheer me on a bit."

The dark witch narrowed her eyes. Her general thoughts and apprehension on this whole Rugnarok malarkey hadn't changed much. "Right," replied Bellatrix after crossed her arms and leaning against the railing. "I'll make you a deal. Seeing as the members of the dueling club are quite interested in seeing the skills of an actual battle-witch in action, I've been challenged to a few rounds. I will come to cheer you on while you play your violent carpet-game, if you come by to cheer me on while I duel the members of the dueling club and massacre the whole bloody lot of them!"

"Deal!" Hermione winked. Smoking on the roof top then swiftly evolved into kissing on the roof top. The two witches reluctantly parted company when it was time for Hermione's next class and time for Bellatrix to get back to work. And the moment she stepped into the hallway, an enchanted paper airplane containing her next service-request hit her right between the eyes. After some shouting and subsequent cursing, she picked up the request and read it. Even though it was hastily written and barely legible, she could make out that her next destination was the infirmary.

When she arrived, she was confronted with the odd sight of Lily standing on top of a stool, frantically looking around the room.

"Lily?"

"Bella!" Lily's face lit up, even though the panic was still evident. "I'm so glad you're here."

Bellatrix closed the door behind her. "I couldn't really make out the request. What's going on here? Why are you on top of that stool?"

"There's a mouse!"

"A mouse?"

"A MOUSE!"

"You're up that stool because of a mouse?"

"It's underneath the cupboard over there! Please get rid of it!" Lily begged.

This was the woman whom in her world had stood up to the Dark Lord. This was the woman whom had probably seen terrible injuries in her career. This was the woman whom was married to Severus Snape. And yet there she was: absolutely terrified of a tiny rodent. It boggled Bellatrix's mind.

Still, the dark witch went to work. She grabbed the nearest mop and poked it underneath the cupboard as indicated. A few moments later, a gray furry speck of a mouse rushed out into the open. Upon spotting it, Lily produced an ear-piercing shriek almost putting Old Shrieking Sarah to shame. Bellatrix quickly dropped the mop and drew her wand, taking careful aim at the mouse as it was trying to find a new hiding spot.

"AVADA KEDAVRA!" shouted Bellatrix. A sickly green orb shot from her wand and her aim was absolutely true. The mouse dropped down in its tracks, moving no more.

"There," said Bellatrix. "You can come down now."

The dark witch picked up the dead mouse by the tail with thumb and index finger, lifting it up and putting it in a sack for disposal. However, when she turned around she saw that Lily was, almost impossibly, a shade paler than she had just been.

"That... that was excessive," Lily stammered.

"It's dead, innit?" Bellatrix shrugged.

"The... the ease with which you used that spell, it's... a little unsettling," Lily spoke softly. "More than a little."

Bellatrix pursed her lips. "I was..."

"A soldier. Yes, I know," said Lily. "But this is a school, not a battlefield. Please... please promise me you will never use that spell in front of the students."

Bellatrix frowned. "You really _are_ upset."

She put a hand on her shoulder. "More for you. I'm so sorry you... were put in a position that you had to become comfortable with using such a vile curse."

"It's... really... no big deal."

"But it is!" replied Lily. "Taking life away. It changes people. And rarely for the better."

That left Bellatrix to contemplate in silence. After saying her goodbye to Lily and got rid of the dead mouse, Bellatrix found a quiet corner to think. A cigarette was quickly lit. Yes, she had killed people... creatures... both guilty and innocent. Was she still the same person she had been at the time? Was she still capable of killing? She concluded that she probably would be: all the love and forgiveness couldn't change that. If anything, it had made her more determined. If someone were to threaten her family or, Merlin forbid, Hermione, she would completely and utterly tear that person to pieces with the darkest of arts and she would do so without a second thought.

No doubt, she was a killer. She'd always been a killer. But the reasons for possibly killing? Those had certainly changed.

She put out her cigarette by pushing it out against a brick and tossed the stub into a nearby waste-basket. As she did so, she ran into Ghost-Bella, guiding some lost first years to where ever they needed to be. Considering it was just before lunch, they were probably headed to the Great Hall.

"Follow me!" Ghost-Bellatrix announced, floating ahead with the first years in tow. She promptly glided through the wall, leaving a few rather confused kids standing in the corridor. Just as quickly, her head popped out of the wall with an apologetic grin on her face. "Oh, sorry. I forgot you can't do that."

As they passed each other in the corridor, Bellatrix gave her ghostly counterpart a nod. "Up late or up early?" she asked playfully.

"Late!" Ghost-Bellatrix replied as she guided her flock of students through the corridor. It was odd, really, the twists and turns a life could take. Had she ever been as cheerful as her ghostly counterpart had been in her youth? She didn't think so.

Lunch time came quickly and Bellatrix took her usual seat at the staff table. Often enough, she and Hermione were stealing glances at each other during lunch, as she was seated with the rest of the Ravenclaw students.

However, quickly after lunch an accident at Potions needed Bellatrix's immediate attention. She knew it was bad when she could hear the explosion from the other side of the school and once she arrived, two of the goblin maintenance crew were already on site and had locked down the classroom. The classroom itself looked like a warzone: the remnants of glassworks were spread all over the classroom, tables and chairs had been torn to splinters and the remains of all kinds of potions were mixing together on the ground as one large, acidic, poisonous carpet of bubbling magic death.

"Jesus fuck, mate," sounded one of the goblins, a rather coarse fellow by the name of Brunrast.

Bellatrix blinked as she regarded the mess. "What did those kids even _do_?!"

"Bunch of knobdobbery fuds!" spoke Gugraff, a Scottish goblin. "It be like they be _tryin_ ' to do themselves in!"

Brunrast snorted. "Some daft cunt tried to make a small bomb to toss down the lav. Blew 'alf 'is arm off, 'e did! Lily's at the infirmary trying to stitch it all back together."

Bellatrix groaned. "Oh, Snape's going to love this. He's trying to _decrease_ the student death rate and this happens on the first Friday of the term!"

"Oh, the nugget's already expelled," said Gugraff. "Still, better than a bomb down the cludgie. We'd 'ave 'ad to rip 'alf the walls out to repair the plumbing."

"Nrg," Bellatrix groaned as she put up the sign that the classroom was closed and off limits for the time being. "Let's just get rid of this mess before it eats through the floor," she said, getting ready for a long, long afternoon.

* * *

"It's strange, really," said Bellatrix as she once again found herself in Fort William, facing the huge Scotsman Terry MacDiarmid with his usual implacable expression. "I accepted the position merely as a means to an end, but not... I mean. It's simply menial work, in a way completely beneath me, but I find an odd enjoyment in it."

"Your life has been tumultuous for the last twenty-five years," said Terry. "It's not strange to find joy in stability."

"Is it really that?" Bellatrix said, putting a finger to her lips. "I wonder. I've always led a life of riches and luxury. I grew up in a massive mansion, elves waiting on me for every whim. Never even had to pick up my own clothes from the ground. As a Death Eater, that situation didn't change much. It was beneath me to, well, bend over and pick something up. Even in prison I forced other prisoners to do my bidding. Azkaban might have been a hell-hole, but I was still the undisputed queen of the women's wing."

"Coming to this universe was a complete break from your previous life," said Terry. "Your riches, your reputation, all of it gone. With the slate wiped clean, it forced you to start over. How does that make you feel?"

Bellatrix thought for a moment. "Liberating," she replied. "Though living on a budget is something I still have to get used to, I've learned there's merit in simplicity. And I do not miss it. Not really. Well..."

"Be honest, Bellatrix," Terry pushed.

"It's silly, really," Bellatrix looked away, slightly embarrassed. "I... wish I still had some wealth left so that I could lavish Hermione with gifts. Pamper her a little. She deserves to be pampered."

"You are grateful to her," said Terry. "That isn't strange, all things considered. But do you think Hermione would _want_ to be lavished with expensive gifts?"

Bellatrix shook her head. "Probably not. She'd likely just be embarrassed and she's just happy for us to spend time together."

"Time spent together can be a great gift in itself considering the many stresses of modern life," said Terry.

"This Wednesday was the first time I cooked a meal in my life," Bellatrix chuckled to herself. "Bacon and eggs. It wasn't even all that burned too badly. Hermione said she liked it, but she's not a very good liar. I think she was just happy I didn't burn down the shack."

"Is she your live-in girlfriend by now?" asked Terry.

Bellatrix thought for a moment. "She... never went back to the dorms. Hermione just... decided to stay at the shack, along with that dog of hers. Come to think of it, more and more of her belongings are finding their way into my home. Is she my live-in girlfriend? I suppose it just happened without either of us thinking about it."

"How does that make you feel?"

Bellatrix thought for a moment, looking out the window to the rolling green hills. A brief but warm smile was his answer.

"Just like your work and building up your familial bonds," Terry stated. "Your relationship with Hermione is another pillar in the stability you, perhaps purely subconsciously, desire."

"Even if my small bathroom is now filled to the brim with all of Hermione's hair-case products?" Bellatrix snorted. "Funny thing, really. You'd think that's the sort of thing you notice."

"Do you still believe that you are undeserving of Hermione's love?"

Bellatrix thought for a moment, looking down at the floor as she ordered her thoughts. "A small nagging part of me still thinks that someone with a heart as pure as hers shouldn't fall in love with a damaged soul like me," Bellatrix looked up. "But then the rest of me screams out and I want every inch of Hermione all to myself."

"There is, on the surface, nothing wrong with that," said Terry. "But considering your past, you might want to be careful not to have the obsessive part of your personality to gain the upper hand. Obsession is a curious thing, Bellatrix. Longing and obsession go hand in hand and it can destroy bonds as quickly as it can create it. Be careful not to put Hermione on too high a pedestal."

Bellatrix chuckled. "And here I wanted to proclaim my Hermione to be a goddess in human form with liquid gold flowing through her veins, lips that taste like summer wine and skin like soft warm milk," she laughed. "I'm in love, haven't you noticed? Isn't that you're supposed to do to the people you're in love with?"

"No," was his simple reply. "With all due respect, Bellatrix, this is the first healthy romantic relationship you've had in your entire life. Affection and love is fine. But remember that Hermione is as human as you are and also has needs and desires. You put your Lord Voldemort on a pedestal, partly because his ego would have demanded it. Ask yourself if Hermione would want worship and obsession."

Bellatrix snorted. "She wouldn't."

"Good," said Terry. "Hold on to simplicity. You'll find that simply giving love and affection is more than enough and will gain you far more than worship of lavish gifts."

"I'd still like to give her something, though," said Bellatrix. "Her birthday is coming up next week. I still have no idea what I should get her. Something that is worthy of her, yes, but simple, like you said."

Terry nodded. "How about not laying the focus on something that is expensive, but rather something that has meaning to her. Surely you know her well enough to find something fitting."

"Hm," Bellatrix rubbed her chin.

* * *

After leaving the practice, Bellatrix felt quite good about herself. This session wasn't nearly as gut-wrenching as the previous ones had been and she have a walk through the Fort William high street. These days, she was slightly more comfortable to be around muggles, but still a bit skittish. She still kept a safe distance and kept an eye out just in case one of the muggles on the street would approach her to get too close.

She was a woman with a mission, and that mission was buying a birthday gift for Hermione. She'd turn twenty next week, a milestone age which deserved a memorable gift. The dark witch had been saving a little bit of money and could set something aside for a piece of jewelry. Thankfully, there was a shop right in the high street.

When she entered the cozy little shop, she was surrounded by gold, silver and precious stones in the form of necklaces, earrings, figurines, rings and all manner of lovely stuff. In fact, it was a bit overwhelming, especially looking at the prices and what she could and could not afford. Perhaps... a nice pair of earrings? A necklace? A ring?

She sighed. This was going to be difficult. In the past, she could have just bought the lot and have elves dump the jewelry over Hermione while she was in the shower. Now, she could only afford a single piece and she'd have to make it a good one. She thought back to Terry's words: find something that has meaning to Hermione. They did seem to have a nice selection of hair-clips. Hermione did love her hair...

"Can I help you, luv?" spoke a kindly looking older muggle man from behind the counter.

Bellatrix bit back her revulsion for being addressed by a muggle. "Possibly," said Bellatrix. "I'm looking for a gift for a girl who's about to turn twenty. Something... special."

"A gift for your daughter, I see? Congratulations. Twenty is a milestone age," the muggle man gave her a nice smile.

The dark witch squared her jaw, fighting the urge to crucio the hell of the muggle man. Instead, she forced a smile and decided to grin and bear it. "Exactly. It's rather difficult to find something special."

"We could also have something custom made," said the muggle man. "We do custom molding."

Bellatrix thought for a moment and knew just the thing: if Hermione was willing to have a particular symbol tattooed on her body, she would definitely enjoy having that same symbol in the form of a charm necklace. "That sounds like a good idea. There is this symbol she likes. It's like a triangle but with rounded sides."

"Could you draw it for me?" he said, handing her a small notepad and a pencil. Bellatrix drew the symbol from memory as she could. Once handing it back, the man's eyes lit up.

"Ah, the Starfleet Delta!" the man chuckled. "A gift for a Trekkie."

Ah, he knew about it. That would make things easier. She was not prepared for the next question, however.

"Which era?"

"Uhm," Bellatrix replied. "There's era's?"

"Sure. There's the TOS era, the Next Generation Era. The Next Generation era has some variations between the Next Generation, Deep Space Nine and Voyager series," the muggle man rambled off.

"Right," Bellatrix crossed her arms. "I have no idea what you just said. I know Hermione's always on about this Captain Kirk chap, though."

"Ah, Captain Kirk. That's TOS. TOS series or movie era?" he asked.

"I don't know!" Bellatrix hissed through her teeth, anger rising. "I only about this nonsense from a poster in her dorm room!"

"What was the color of his uniform?"

"Yellowish-gold?"

"TOS series then."

Bellatrix left the jewelry rather pleased with herself. In the end, she had picked out a good size for the pendant and necklace, negotiated a good price for a 14 karat gold version of it and it would be ready the same day next week so she could pick it up after her next therapy session, right in time for Hermione's birthday.

Thankfully, she didn't miss the train and was underway to Wiltshire quickly enough. In the two hours it took to get there, she relaxed a little in her compartment. She reflected on the events of the week or spent it with a book. Bellatrix made good time and it was midday when Cissy picked her up from the railway station.

The sisters chatted a bit on the way home, with Narcissa trying to make her see the merits of getting a carpet-permit when Malfoy Manor came in sight. Narcissa steered towards the mountain, and just as Bellatrix and Narcissa were having a debate if Andromeda's strawberry or cranberry flavoured cakes were better, a loud explosion sounded from the direction of the manor. Only a few moments later, black arid smoke started to rise from the lab.

The two witches shared a look before Narcissa sped up the carpet and prepared for landing. As soon as the rug touched the ground, the both of them ran into the house, speeding through the corridors. From the door to the lab, smoke was already emerging. A quick bubble-head charm later and both witches burst into the lab.

What they found was a scene of utter chaos. The lab was thick with smoke while alarms blared from various machines. One had apparently exploded, while one of the funnels on the teleportation contraption was glowing bright red from massive heat. Draco and Luna were quickly trying to put out smaller fires by shooting jets of ice from their wands, while Lucius and Hermione were frantically disconnecting machines. Power of magic still crackled through the air and Bellatrix could feel her hair going static from the sheer level of power in the air.

"What happened here?!" shouted Narcissa.

"Bella!" Lucius noticed her standing there. "Disconnect the dissiminator! Quickly!"

The dark witch nodded and rushed to the contraption, being careful not to get too close to the red hot metal. She felt its searing heat even from half a meter away as she fiddled with the delicate and expensive dissiminator. After rotating the main connection, she removed the wiring in the proper order in order to safely disconnect it, scooping the device in her arms and carrying it to a nearby table. A missing device she could explain: a destroyed device would be much harder to cover up.

"Oh, fuck," Hermione let out a heavy sigh as the air started to clear and the extent of the damage cleared. "Careful! Let the funnel cool on its own! If we spray it with water now, it'll crack!"

A smile came over her and she flew into Bellatrix's arms. The dark witch took a moment to wipe a little soot from her face. After opening some doors to let the smoke air out, the now defeated group sat around the cooling machine, wondering how to deal with this massive set-back.

"We'll need a new resonator," Luna muttered, looking over at the destroyed machine.

"I have another one," said Lucius. "It's older, and not as good. But it'll have to make do."

"We believe we've hit the sweet spot which will make teleportation possible," said Draco. "The right energy variance and the right level of MagiHertz."

Hermione shook her head. "We were going to surprise you with this breakthrough. Seems silly now."

"That would explain the heat levels," Bellatrix ran a hand through her hair. "With the flow of magic being much stronger..."

"... the machinery is running too hot. From the friction of the magical energy traveling through the primary funnel. It's distorting the focus," Luna finished.

Lucius was looking rather grim at the moment, sighing for a moment after seeing the state of his test setup. "This might be the reason why the experiment failed in the first place. Gotthard likely never solved this problem and counted on the flow of magic remaining stable before the machine overheated."

"And when he stepped through, he was cut in half," Draco replied. "Obviously not safe. And obviously a problem we need to tackle."

"We know the setup worked in your world, Bella," Hermione asked, looking hopeful. "Any idea how he solved this problem?"

Bellatrix shook her head. "I'm not aware of those details," she replied. "It's not the sort of thing they usually put in the history books and I never looked into the early days of teleportation on anything more than a cursory level. Can't we simply use an ice-charm?"

"No," said Luna. "Anything magical will affect the flow of magic through the funnels. We'll have to completely recalibrate the machinery and the sweet spot we've just found will be useless. We'll lose months, possibly years of progress."

"Shit," Draco sighed. "We can't use an ice-charm because we don't know the exact variables of the magic flow yet. And we can't further refine the exact variables because we need to use an ice-charm to keep the heat under control! We're right back where we started!"

Narcissa, whom had been listening to the conversation on the sideline, paced around somewhat, surveying the damage. "Perhaps it's time to take a step back and evaluate. We've already had one fire and that cost us half the manor. I'd rather not lose the rest of the house to a magical fluke!"

Hermione bit her lip, obviously angry with herself for not having a better solution. "I've tried installing heatsinks and heat piping, but it's just not enough. We can't siphon away the heat quick enough. We need to find a way to super-cool the intake funnel without distorting the magical focus further."

"Right now we're just shooting an expelliarmus in the dark," Lucius said, contemplating ideas. "We could try to cool the entire room, but that would mean we can't operate the machinery. Any localized spellcasting will have the same negative effect."

It was then that Bellatrix stood up, an epiphany shooting through her mind as if a candle had just lit above her head. "I think I might have an idea!" she announced. "Cissy, I need to borrow your owl for a bit. She'll have to send a message to Lily. Pet, once the funnel is cooled enough, I'll need to you make a few adjustments."

"What do you have in mind?" Hermione asked.

"Oh, you'll see," Bellatrix winked. "With any luck, you'll have the answer to all your problems this very evening."

"For now," Narcissa admonished, for once acting like the patrician lady-of-the-manor she had known back in her world. "You lot are going to clean up this mess and then yourselves! Andie is coming over for dinner and I don't want this house smelling like a fireplace! Get to work!"

* * *

The adjustment Bellatrix had asked Hermione to make was a seat on top of the funnel, an idea which Hermione had further developed by connecting it with many other points of the the contraption with copper heat-piping. A bluish glow came from behind as the person who would occupy that seat floated forward.

"Just sit here?" said Ghost-Bellatrix as she floated up and pointed at the seat.

"Yes," replied Bellatrix. "That's all you have to do."

"Sounds easy enough," replied the ghost girl, and promptly did so. Instantly, cold started to travel throughout the funnel and, though the heat-piping, the entire contraption. Cold started radiating from the super-cooled metal as a thin layer of ice started to form. "Am I doing it right?"

"You're doing it perfect!" Hermione replied.

"Indeed," added Luna. "According to these measurements, there is no debilitating magical interference and the temperature variance should be more than within limits for testing."

Lucius nodded in approval. "Thank you, miss, for arriving in such a short time. I trust the manor wasn't too hard to find?"

"Oh, it was fun!" replied Ghost-Bellatrix. "I haven't traveled by train for ages, but I did cause a few scares when asking for directions to the manor itself. I can't stay forever, though. I'm expected to be back at my fetter on Monday."

"That's totally fine," said Draco. "We only test in the weekends because of school."

"OH!" Ghost-Bellatrix's ghostly eyes lit up. "Maybe we could travel together next weekend. That could be so much fun! We'll have loads of fun scaring muggles! I'll get some practice in making more scary faces. Do you want to see one?"

As Ghost-Bellatrix proceeded to make Draco jump out of his skin by turning her face into a mass of blood-clovered wide-open eyes while her hair whipped around after being shaped into long prehensile tentacles, the living Bellatrix looked around the room for Hermione and found that she had left.

Meanwhile, Ghost-Bellatrix had moved on to try to scare Luna... to absolutely no effect whatsoever.

"Would you kindly take your seat again?" Luna replied, her voice lasted with a subtle hint of sheer annoyance. "We would like to do a couple of test runs."

For the test setup, Draco headed to a barrel near the door and fished out a couple of apples. One apple was put on the platform in front of the primary intake funnel while Luna was preparing the magical flow through the machine.

"How many apples do you go through?" asked Ghost-Bella.

"Trust me," laughed Draco. "We're the local orchard's favorite people."

Lucius stepped up to the ghost, now happily humming as she sat on the contraption. "Welcome to the team. You're already a big help," he said, extending his hand towards her.

Bellatrix quickly shot forward and grabbed Lucius by the wrist. "Unless you enjoy losing your fingertips to frostbite, I'd reconsider that handshake."

"Ah, I... rather need my fingertips," Lucius gave the ghost girl an apologetic look.

The ghost girl, for her part, didn't mind at all. "It's fine," she said. "I'm just happy that I can make my unnatural ghost chill useful for once."

Luna and Lucius activated the contraption and cast the necessary spells to get the magical flowing for the first test run. "Haha, that tickles," said the ghost girl as she dangled her feet into the beam. That caused Lucius to ramble off some safety procedures, warning the girl to keep her feet out of the flow and never to fly into the machine while it was active, as they had no idea what that would actually do to her. The dark witch checked the clock and decided she didn't need to be around for the making of more post-teleportation apple juice. Instead, she felt like a smoke and was off to find Hermione.

She didn't have to look far as she could hear her raised voice as soon as she left the lab. The dark witch followed the sound of her voice only to find Hermione arguing with Andie and Narcissa. The two older witches faced her with stony expressions. "Please," Hermione pleaded. "Just go see her. It would mean so much to her. She's really nice!"

Hermione.

Sweet naive, Hermione.

This supposedly fixing people Luna had mentioned; Hermione just couldn't help herself.

The moment Bellatrix stepped into sight, Narcissa brushed past Hermione to confront her. "How could you do this?!" she hissed.

"Do what?" Bellatrix feigned ignorance, while both Andie and Hermione joined them, Andie at Narcissa's side and Hermione at hers.

"You..." Narcissa blinked. "You know very well what I mean. You let that... that _thing_ into my house!"

Andromeda said nothing, but what was in her eyes was clear: pain.

Narcissa was about to go off on a tangent, but Bellatrix cut her off. "SHE IS NOT A THING! THAT IS YOUR SISTER!" Bellatrix shrieked in their faces, the decibels of a level that it caused Hermione to wince and both her sisters to start.

"I think what the two of you are doing is horrible. Don't get me wrong, I am fortunate and happy that you accepted me as the same woman you both grew up with and love. But deep down, you know that I am not the sister you once had. That ghost girl in Lucius' lab is," Bellatrix pressed.

Narcissa looked away, soft spoken, voice full of hurt. "That thing is not our sister, she's..."

"An echo. You told me before. But even if she's just an echo... if she's echo with her looks, her memories, her personality. Then who's to say that it's _not_ her?" the dark witch crossed her arms.

Narcissa and Andromeda exchanged silent looks. Andie, poor Andie, was close to tears.

"You're both good people and I know you mean well. But if that was me in there, I know I would love to talk to you both again. More than anything. Cissy, stop being so stubborn. Andie, you owe her your life. You don't have to be ashamed to face her. She loved you enough to trade her own life for yours. I'm happy to have you both in my life as sisters, but I can't take the place of the sister you grew up with. Go to her. She's right there!" she said, pointing to the corridor leading into the lab.

Narcissa and Andromeda exchanged another look. Silently, Narcissa slowly reached out to grasp Andromeda's hand. It wasn't clear if she did so to support Andie, or if she needed the support herself, but she supposed that didn't matter. A brief smile later and the two walked off silently into the corridor.

About ten minutes later, Bellatrix and Hermione found themselves standing in the backyard, each taking a drag from their cigarette. From their vantage point, she could see directly into the drawing room from the distance. Narcissa and Andromeda were sitting at the table, while the ghostly version of her younger self was enthusiastically and animatedly regaling them with a tale, likely from her days at Hogwarts. Andie had fully turned on the waterworks now and was shaking. Narcissa reached over to hold her hand. She wasn't exactly keeping her own eyes dry either.

"That was a nice thing you did," said Hermione as she stood close to her, briefly laying her head on her shoulder.

Bellatrix shrugged and took another drag. "I owed her."

"Funny how this little family of ours is coming together now," Hermione said. "I've never had a mum. I mean, well, I obviously had a mum who gave birth to me, but never a mother-figure in my life until I met Narcissa. Luna was much the same. She did have a mum, but, well... let's just say that Narcissa also filled that role."

"Did Cissy ever offer to adopt you?" asked Bellatrix. "Like she did Luna?"

"I've thought about it," said Hermione, taking another puff. "I think I only need to ask Narcissa if I wanted to. I just never did for the same reason Luna never did. Despite everything that happened, I still love my dad. I'm happy enough being sort of a surrogate daughter-sister-friend. Does that make sense?"

"Sure it does," said Bellatrix. "You are your own person. I'm glad you didn't decide to become a Malfoy, though."

"Oh?"

"If you did, I'd be sleeping with my niece," Bellatrix grimaced. "Even in pure-blood circles, that is frowned upon."

"Hah," Hermione chuckled.

Together they finished their cigarettes and went inside.


	18. The Deadly Years

The 'challenge' of her appearing at the dueling club for a few rounds had come from Severus Snape himself. His reasoning being that her having fought in wars could give the members some perspective and would allow her to keep up with her skills.

That didn't mean that she would hold back. Bellatrix had her pride, after all. Well... not that much, at least. Perhaps ease back a little on the more violent spells. Not to ferocious. Give the kids a sporting chance at least. Alright, perhaps she would be holding back. Just a little.

Magical dueling wasn't an official subject and was mostly meant as a sport. The fact that the dueling hall wasn't even inside the castle but rather in a re-purposed carriage house built into the outer walls was telling enough about the status of dueling in this world.

The lay-out of the dueling hall was not that different from the Hogwarts in her own universe: a large rectangular raised platform surrounded by the wooden benches for other students and a potential audience to sit in.

Her first opponent was Snape himself, but she quickly concluded that he wasn't anywhere near as good as the Severus Snape from her own world. Though, she surmised he really didn't have to be: this Snape had never needed to fight in two wizarding wars, after all, and had probably never been in a real combat situation where he would have had to fight for his life.

At first, she considered he was merely testing the waters. The bog-standard opening he kicked the duel off with certainly suggested so. But when Bellatrix quickly got bored and upped the ante, it soon became clear enough that Snape wasn't anywhere near her level. Being up against Snape and two students was similarly a yawn-fest. Honestly, the students were utterly pathetic.

Now, facing off with Snape and _five_ students at the same time? That was at least somewhat interesting.

The air was thick with magic as she was surrounded on all sides, spells and hexes fast approaching her. She blocked them all, twirling around her axis to retaliate against each and every one of them with one foul swoop. Her body moved as fluidly as water pouring down a spout, her wand feeling as an extension of her hand and she turned to block another stunner, plucked it out of the air and shot it right back at the caster.

Her only handicap was that her hair was starting to get into the way: with every move made, her long thick hair danced around her, blocking her peripheral vision somewhat. It had almost caused one of the stunners to pass through her barrier.

Almost.

Of course, the off-set to that handicap were the constant cheers and whoops coming from Hermione in the audience who was hollering with every offensive move Bellatrix made. Certainly, there was no way she was going to perform badly while Hermione'd be watching.

One lad had cheekily told her during the previous match that it must have been nice to have a groupie. Bellatrix had laughed at that... before her laugh had turned into a cackle and she promptly blasted him right off the platform.

They'd been at it for minutes before the students figured out that working together would be far, far more effective than the five of them attacking her individually without any form of coordination. Bellatrix snorted inwardly: certainly took them long enough to figure that out.

One of the girls was actively trying to suppress her while Snape and one of the boys bombarded her with attacks from either side. By now, the five of them were starting give her a very nice work-out and she was forced to spend more time defending while having less of a chance to retaliate. Magic crackled in the air all around her as she spun around to block another round of incoming stunners.

It was than that one of the students finally managed to break through her barrier: she felt the impact in the back of her left shoulder. It wasn't anything special, really, and the only effect was that her left arm felt a bit numb. But it was the fact that she had been hit all which irked her. Bellatrix swept her wand along the path of the combatants in front of her, knocking them all backwards just enough for them to need to regain their balance. She turned around and faced the girl whom had managed to hit her and let out a mocking drawl. "Awwww, wittle bwaby has learned her first spwell!" Bellatrix showed a pouty smile. "How pwecious! Mummy must be so pwoud!"

The utterly mocking cackle that followed threw the now enraged girl's next attack missed her by a country-mile, just as she had intended. It did, however, have the unintentional benefit of hitting one of her fellow students square in the chest.

Seriously, these kids had a lot to learn still: dueling wasn't just about magical prowess, stances or form, but involved taunting and mockery just as much. A properly timed insulted could throw off a duelist just as much as a perfectly timed spell could.

By now people she had knocked off balance had recovered and were back into the fight. Bellatrix was actually starting to have some fun: she could certainly learn these kids a trick or two and was looking forward to the post-duel evaluation Snape seemed to be fond of.

It was then that things went South.

One of the duelist, a boy named Seamus something had the bright idea to try to get behind her and hit her in the back. Not a bad tactic, of course, but it was rather poorly executed: not only did he manage to completely miss her, but the usual reddish-hue of stunner magic came out of his wand as an off-color blue green. As attuned to magic as she was, Bellatrix instantly recognized that the boy had fumbled the spell and what had come out of his wand was a dangerous burst of unpredictable 'wild' magic. Had it been in her path, she would have easily been able to block and dissipate it. But as it stood, the bolt of wild magic shot right into the audience.

A collection of gasps and a few frightened 'whoa's sounded. Bellatrix's heart jumped into her throat when she saw Hermione turning to study the impact: a fist-sized smoldering and charred hole in the bench, mere inches from the side of her head.

Black spots started to form in front of her eyes.

Time slowed to a crawl as she turned towards her opponents with pure unbridled fury. One girl found herself being blasted across the room before she ever had any idea what was happening. The dark witch then turned towards Snape, disarming the startled professor and making his wand fly off through the nearest open window. The end of her wand turned into a whip, wrapped around the chest of one of the girls and, with a flick of the wrist, Bellatrix slammed her into two boys and sent the lot of them off the platform to land in a heap.

Seamus didn't need to be disarmed: he dropped his wand quite on his own when the trembling lad saw an angry ball of pure unbridled rage barreling towards him. He was quickly tackled by the dark witch, who pressed her forearm into his neck and put the tip of her wand to his forehead.

"FOOLISH WRETCH OF A BOY!" she shrieked as she pressed into him with her full weight. "YOU COULD HAVE KILLED HER!"

Seamus started blubbering profusely. "I'm... sorry..." he managed. "I didn't mean to!"

"Sowwy?" Bellatrix hissed. "SOWWY?! SORRY DOESN'T REATTACH HEADS, YOU GORMLESS TWAT!"

The dark witch looked up, let her wild eyes rove over the gathered students. "THE PEOPLE OF THIS WORLD ARE SO DISGUSTINGLY INNOCENT!" she hissed. "NONE OF YOU SEEM TO REALIZE THAT MAGIC CAN BE _DANGEROUS_! IT'S NO WONDER THAT THE LOT OF YOU ARE DROPPING LIKE FLIES!"

"Bella!" she heard the soft soothing voice of Hermione as she stood next to the platform and gently squeezed her wand arm. "I'm alright. I'm fine. You can let Seamus go."

Bellatrix's chest heaved as the adrenaline from her outburst still soared through her veins. She regarded this boys, this... this _nothing_ whom had almost managed to take her Hermione away from her in less than a second of poor casting and felt nothing but disgust.

"Miss Black," said Snape as he knelt down besides her. "Do calm yourself. You've proven your point."

Bellatrix removed and want and got to her feet. "Go!" she hissed at Seamus. "OUT OF MY SIGHT!"

Seamus scrambled backwards and ran out the door as fast as his legs could carry him. Bellatrix jumped off the platform and took her Hermione in the most fierce of embraces, clutching her against her.

"Need to breathe!" Hermione giggled, returning the embrace as Bellatrix stroked her hair.

"You could have died."

"But I didn't."

"That surge of wild magic could have taken your head right off your body."

"But it didn't."

Bellatrix loosened her grip slowly to be able to look Hermione in the eye. "I can't believe you're so calm about all of this."

"I usually don't worry about what _could_ have happened," said Hermione.

Snape turned to the gathered club. "Right, excitement is over. Take a ten minute break and we shall continue afterward."

Still holding on to Hermione, Bellatrix glared daggers at Snape. "I have new item for the Health and Safety Council. The dueling room needs to have wards to suppress wild magic surges. And barriers to protect the audience!"

"Enough about that," spoke Hermione. "I'd rather talk about how amazing were back there."

The dark witch let out a brief laugh, her ego now properly primed. "I _was_ good, wasn't I?"

Snape nodded, almost reluctantly. "I see you are indeed a battle-hardened soldier, miss Black. I honestly wouldn't want to face off against you in actual combat. Perhaps you would consider returning to the dueling club for more sparring? After we've put the proper safety measures in place, of course?"

"There's no wars to fight here, Bella," said Hermione, her eyes downcast a little. "It... It kinda scares me to think what you've had to do during the wars in your world. I mean, if you were as fierce as you were during them, you must have been, well..."

"I believe the word you're looking for, miss Granger, is _deadly_ ," said Snape. "Miss Black, you fought with discipline and focus. Judging by the way you took us all down with consummate ease at the end, it is obvious you were holding back."

"Well," Bellatrix shrugged. "It was friendly duel, after all."

"Hm," Hermione smiled and hugged Bellatrix from behind, burying her head into her black mane. "She was great, isn't she? And she's all mine!"

Snape rolled his eyes. "Yes, you don't have to prove your point to me that you're together, miss Granger. You've made it abundantly clear despite my best efforts to try to keep your relationship discreet."

Bellatrix's heart was still pounding in her chest when the two of them left the dueling hall and it showed no sign of calming down when they had entered their home. It just... irritated Bellatrix just how calm Hermione was about the whole thing. There she was, just sat on the sofa reading a book with her dog cuddled up next to her without a care in the world. Bellatrix strolled over to the window, glancing outside and watching a few students from the dueling club chatting merrily.

"Why are you not _more_ upset?!" Bellatrix hissed. "Why isn't anyone?!"

Hermione looked up from her reading, giving her a questioning look.

"Do you realize just how quickly a life can be snuffed out?" Bellatrix pressed. "How _easy_ it can be? I should know, I've done it plenty of times! Magic is dangerous, pet! Magic is a weapon! These kids are treating it as a toy! A TOY! If you ask me, this world could use a few more wizarding wars!"

Still seething, she turned around and placed her hands on the windowsill. "You almost died today, Hermione," she spoke, her voice tiny. "Why doesn't that bother you more than it does?"

Two arms wrapped around her waist, a body pressed against her back and a chin was parked on her shoulder. "It certainly bothers _you_ ," whispered Hermione.

"If that spotty twerp had... had actually managed to hurt you," Bellatrix grit her teeth, reeling at the very thought. "I would have torn him limb from useless limb!"

"Hm," she heard Hermione whisper. "I like it when you become so protective of me. Drives me wild..."

Bellatrix bristled. "I'm serious, Hermione."

"Hm, so am I," said Hermione, her hands roaming now. Soft lips suckled on her earlobe, accompanied by the gentlest of biting. Bellatrix's breath caught in her throat as one hand slide up her chest, found the opening among the ruffles on the front of her dress and snaked inside to gently knead her right breast.

"H... Hermione..." Bellatrix husked when Hermione lowered down to kiss her neck, tilting her head slightly to give her better access. The hand in her dress was working magic now... literally as Hermione's fingers felt tingly on her skin, gently massaging her nipple with her thumb while cupping her breast. Sweet Merlin, this girl really did love to work with her hands.

"I know just how to relax you," Hermione whispered in her ear.

Scant a few minutes later, clothes had been shed and the two witches found themselves naked in the shower. Hot water poured down on their bare bodies, pressed together in a tight embrace as they slid over each other. The dark witch pressed her younger lover against the cold tiles, making her hiss for a moment until the pleasure overcame her again. Their lips locked, their tongues wrestling and with three fingers deep within Hermione's folds, Bellatrix tremendously enjoyed Hermione's increasingly laboured gasps for air as she pleasured her girl without any semblance of mercy or remorse. Oh, she could tell that Hermione was desperately fighting her imminent release.

Fingernails dug into her shoulder as Hermione was starting to lose control, every laboured breath now accompanied by a cry or a moan of sheer pleasure, increasing in decibel with every kiss, with every thrust.

Hermione was fighting a losing battle; this Bellatrix realized when the strength in Hermione's arms faltered and her having to hold on to her tighter to keep her young lover upright. Oh, she wanted to make Hermione scream. She wanted to make Hermione beg.

Release came swiftly and loudly and if anyone else had been in the shack with them, they likely would have thought that Bellatrix was sharing her shower with a banshee. Finally, she let go of her girl. Still whimpering, the younger witch had gone weak in the knees and, with her back pressed again the tiles, slowly slid down to sit on the shower floor, hot water still pouring down upon her.

Bellatrix looked upon her victim; a fitting punishment for scaring her so deeply today.

However, there was method to Hermione's madness, as revenge and payback came in its most deepest form. Suddenly, Hermione was upon her, pushing her back to the other side of the shower, now in the perfect position to pleasure her lover with her mouth. Strong hands clasped around her thigh and lower back to keep her in place while the younger witch assaulted her with her tongue.

This time it was Bellatrix who threw her head back. This time it was Bellatrix who let out moans and cries of pleasure with every laboured breath. This time, it was Bellatrix who would scream, realizing that Hermione was every bit as merciless as she had been. Reveling the sheer pleasure, Bellatrix arched her back and lay her hands on Hermione's head, fingers grasping wet brown hair as she pushed Hermione closer against her, relishing every lick and lash.

Sweet Merlin. To be desired like this. To be pleasured like this. Bellatrix was grateful to be underneath the shower right now because her body felt like it was overheating. She could die like this and be happy for it.

For a second time today, Bellatrix saw black spots in front of her eyes. But this time, the reason which induced them was far more palatable. The dark witch went weak in the knees and found herself sitting underneath the showerhead next to Hermione, who grinned and kissed her on the lips. A soft kiss turned into a hungry kiss, and her insatiable young girlfriend was begging for more.

Still wet, they moved to the bed and rolled around as they fought for dominance while pleasuring each other. Neither of their wanting to give an inch to the other, mounting pleasure mixed with delicious frustration as Bellatrix consistently failed to gain the upper hand. Bellatrix had gotten into a good position on top of her girl and playfully pinched one of Hermione's nipples; the result was a slight yelp and the feeling of Hermione tightening around her fingers for a brief moment. But Hermione wasn't done yet: quite unexpectedly, there was a sting on her cheek. The dark witch looked down incredulously, Hermione's expression being one of false innocence. Instantly, the dark witch retaliated by returning the slap, easily double the impact.

Hermione reeled for a moment, but then looked back and gave her a sultry grin that spoke of unbridled lust. Too late did Bellatrix realize that Hermione wasn't so easily dominated; a leg hooked around hers and, while letting out a yelp, she found herself being flipped on her back with Hermione ending up straddling her.

The young witch looked down upon her, again with that infuriating grin. She just looked so goddamn pleased with herself. Anger mounted and mounted: Bellatrix Black would not be outdone by this slip of a girl. An arm lashed out and grabbed a handful for brown-haired, instantly yanked Hermione down upon her. There were more yelps, now becoming slight screams. Retaliation followed quickly. Two hands found themselves in Bellatrix's hair, pulling just a bit harder than was comfortable.

Bellatrix let out a rage-filled grunt as she struggled to roll Hermione to her back. The girl, obviously, resisted, and her playful giggles only infuriated her further. A flash of pain followed; with disbelief, she realized that Hermione had just bit her on the shoulder.

With renewed strength, Bellatrix let out a shriek and forced Hermione to her back, pinning her beneath her. Her hand clamped around Hermione's neck and squeezed just enough to leave the girl panting. Lustful eyes gazed into her, a smiling mouth seemingly mocking her.

Bellatrix hovered above her, eyes blazing with fury. And then... it was as if the universe shifted. For a moment, she was back at Malfoy manor, years ago. A different girl with the same face pinned underneath her: crying, bleeding, begging, screaming in utter terror as Bellatrix inflicted pain and torture upon her. Bellatrix felt the same anger, the same urge to inflict pain as an outlet for all the hate still lingering within her.

She heard Hermione's voice, begging her to stop. Screaming for mercy.

And then she was back in her own bed. In her own shack. With her own Hermione looking up at her.

"No!" she hissed and rolled off Hermione, sitting up next to her in bed with her face cupped in her hands, panting as her fury finally waned. It took her a moment to come back down to reality.

Immediately, Hermione was upon her, sitting next to her and rubbing her back. "Hey," she whispered. "Are you okay?"

Bellatrix closed her eyes. "Just... a bad memory," she said, as Hermione placed a loving kiss on her shoulder, the same shoulder she had bitten just a few moments ago.

"Sorry," said Hermione. "I kinda like it rough when I'm in the right mood, but... I guess I should have discussed that with you first."

Bellatrix took a few moments to catch her breath. "It's fine... perhaps next time, I won't have a flashback."

"War time?"

Bellatrix thought for a moment, deciding what, if anything, to say. "Yes," she simply said.

"I'm so sorry," Hermione whispered.

"It's not your fault," replied Bellatrix. "This is my particular demon, not yours."

"Is there anything I can do to help?" Hermione asked with complete sincerity, soulful loving brown eyes gazing into hers.

Bellatrix simply smiled and squeezed her hand. "You're already doing more than enough," she said. By now, she was coming down from the adrenaline rush. Exhausted, Bellatrix let the girl cuddle up against her, still wet from the shower and their own sweat.

"Our bed's all wet now," Hermione spoke matter-of-factly.

"And whose fault is that, hm?" Bellatrix mocked slightly, eager to lighten the mood. "Little miss 'ohh, let's have it off in the shower!'."

"Hey, you weren't complaining at the time," Hermione giggled, playfully licking her lips with the tip of her tongue in a rather suggestive manner.

"Minx," Bellatrix replied.

It was at that moment that Spock chose to jump into the bed to investigate what his human friends had been up to. "Hello!" Hermione greeted the dog with a few strokes of his fur, while an irate Bellatrix found herself target of his muzzle when he starting licking her face.

"Ah!" Bellatrix hissed. "Get off the bed, you mangy flea bag!"

"Hah!" laughed Hermione as the dog refused to acknowledge her order and kept licking while Bellatrix attempted to swat him away. "I thought you liked tongues!"

" _Yours!_ Not his!" Bellatrix replied, grabbing the dog by the collar and yanking his muzzle away from her face. The dark witch finally managed to force the dog off the bed and gave him a dirty look before taking a bit of a duvet to clean her cheek of dog slobber.

Hermione stared out the window for a moment. "Oh, we're so decadent," Hermione laughed. "It's still light out. Hell, it's not even dinner time yet."

"Hm," said Bellatrix, checking the clock. "Speaking of dinner..."

"No, not the great hall," Hermione shook her head. "We'll have to sit away from each other. After what we've just shared together, we should eat at the same table. And we'll be up late tonight, remember?"

"Hm," Bellatrix thought for a moment. "Hogsmeade? Abuse Andie's kindness and have dinner at her house?"

"Considering she always stuffs us full of food," Hermione grinned. "I'm thinking that's a definite yes. Also, she doesn't mind us playing footsies underneath the table."

* * *

Once again, Bellatrix found herself sitting on the ridge overlooking what was apparently Old Shrieking Sarah's favorite glen to haunt in the depths of night. In the middle of said glen, she and Hermione had set up a table. On the table was a plate and on said plate lay a fresh, bloodied pig's heart which Hermione had picked up at the butcher's shop and had spent the better part of the day inside their own fridge, unfortunately.

At least, this time she had remembered to bring a blanket to sit on, rather than the cold ground. It's the waiting that was the most annoying.

In front of the table stood a very, very nervous and jittery Ghost-Bella. Bellatrix regarded her ghostly, younger self with a measure of embarrassment. Merlin, had she been like this when she'd been young? She certainly hoped not.

" _She's not coming_ ," she heard her younger self's voice in her mind.

" _We've only been here for fifteen minutes,_ " replied Bellatrix. " _And that's the fifth time you've said that."_

" _Do you think she already knows we're here_ ," Ghost-Bella sounded nervous, even telepathically.

" _Trust me, if she knew we're here, we would have noticed by now,"_ replied Bellatrix. " _Now be quiet."_

" _But I'm not saying anything!"_

" _And yet you succeed in annoying me!"_

" _Bitch."_

" _I heard that!"_

" _But I didn't say anything!"_

Good. Banter. Hopefully that would make the girl less nervous and annoying. Thankfully, they didn't need to wait much longer: the ghostly form of Old Shrieking Sarah's tattered robe could be seen among the treeline.

" _There she is! There she is!"_ replied Ghost-Bella, sounding nervous beyond measure.

" _Stand your ground! Don't show fear or weakness!"_

" _I'll try."_

The banshee glided over the ground, headed somewhat warily towards the table and the ghost-girl. For the first time, Bellatrix was able to get a good look at the angry spirit and she certainly wasn't pretty: basically, it was a skeletal mummy without eyes, lips stretched all the way open as to permanently display her blackened teeth. Her long, matted hair hung from her dried scalp down to the back of her ankles and contained all manner of twigs, dirt and bones of small animals. If they were simply things that were tangled in there or some matter of decorations, Bellatrix did not know.

" _Well..."_ Bellatrix pressed mentally.

" _Oh! Yes! Uhm,"_ said the ghost-girl. " _Hi! Uhm. I'm Bellatrix, but you can call me Bella if you like. I've, uhm, I've brought you a gift! I... I hope you like it."_

The banshee took a wary look at the heart and, without ever looking away from her ghostly younger self, reached out with a bony, skeletal hand to snatch the heart from the plate. The banshee appeared to sniff it before sinking her teeth into the heart.

Bellatrix felt her stomach churn when she saw blood and bits of flesh spilling over the banshee's dried skin. Banshees had no table-manners at all, that much was certain. In truth, it completely boggled her mind now her ghostly younger self could be in any way romantically attracted to this horrid, shriveled-up _thing._ Either being a ghost changed one's mind and perspective in such a way to be drawn to these types of spirit, or her ghostly self simply had a horrible taste in women.

Perhaps even both. Who knew? Point is, Ghost-Bella was deeply in love with this creature and this might be an opportunity to steer the banshee to a place where she could do far less harm to the living. Win-win for everyone, even for the banshee if she were to return the romantic interest.

The ghost girl looked on in silence as the banshee finished her meal. The banshee levitated in front of her, looking at her quizzically.

" _Tell her she looks nice!"_ Bellatrix pressed.

" _Oh, uhm,"_ Ghost-Bella gulped. " _Your, uhm, spine is very supportive. And I love the way how those bleached squirrel bones brings out the onyx color of your hair in the moonlight! Also, that's a really smashing robe you have on! I really like the tatters and rips!_ "

Bellatrix groaned inwardly as her ghostly self fired off another set of cringe worthy pick-up lines. Next to her, Hermione plopped down on the blanket after having left for a brief answer to nature's call. "Oh, Sarah's finally here," she whispered to Bellatrix. "How's it going?"

Before answering Hermione, Bellatrix shielded her mind from the ghost girl to keep her from being discouraged. "She's utterly hopeless," Bellatrix muttered. "That cocky and confident ghost girl turns out not to be so cocky and confident after all."

"She'll get there," said Hermione after removing a thermos flask from her backpack. "Tea?"

"Please."

After taking a few sips of tea, Bellatrix almost let the cup drop from her hand as the banshee let out a sudden ear-piercing shriek. At first, the dark witch thought that her younger self had mucked up her pick up lines until she realized that this scream was not the same as they had heard a week ago in the same glen. It was... softer... gentler... somewhat playful too. Of course, it still made her eardrums almost burst, but it wasn't that bad all things considered.

" _What... what just happened? What do I do?!"_ Ghost-Bella seemed close to panicking as she floated about nervously.

" _I have a fair idea what's happening here,"_ Bellatrix replied mentally. " _Quick! Remember one of those ghost-faces you made at me at the start of summer? Do one of those."_

" _What? Are you serious?!"_

" _Yes I am,"_ Bellatrix replied. " _And make it a good one. The best one you've ever made. Really put your undead little heart into it."_

She felt the ghost girl's doubt within her mind, but she quickly steeled herself. The ghost girl did as Bellatrix told her: her face and parts of her body exploded in a sea of ghostly tendrils, mutated flesh, eyes and mind-destroying impossible dead-lights, accompanying it with an otherworldly spine-chilling shriek. When her face and body reformed into her usual self, the banshee regarded her for a moment before letting out a rasp which could vaguely be described as an amused and appreciative laugh.

" _I... I think she likes me!"_ sounded Ghost-Bella in her head.

" _Tell her you'd love to spend some time with her,_ " Bellatrix returned mentally. " _Take her through a stroll... or a float... through the woods. Tell her you want to get to know her better._ "

Her ghostly self did exactly that. And when a ghostly blue transparent hand took hold of a bony skeletal one, the deal was sealed. " _I think you can take it from here,_ " thought Bellatrix.

" _I think I do. Thanks so much, Bella!"_

Next to her, Hermione sipped her tea. "What's happening?"

"She's got it from here," said Bellatrix. "They're going for an evening stroll."

"Awww," Hermione smiled warmly. "This is so romantic."

"My younger ghostly self is going on a date with a rotting corpse," Bellatrix muttered. "Romantic isn't the word I'd use."

A glint appeared in Hermione's eyes. "Necromantic?"

Bellatrix glared at Hermione while she laughed at her own awful, punny joke. "Oh, bugger off," was her eventual, exasperated response. "Don't look so pleased with yourself, pet."

The night was still young and the two witches decided to take a walk by the side of the lake. With the Forbidden Forest and Hogwarts behind them, they picked a spot to sit down on the bank near the water. After putting down the blanket, they got comfortable and watched the moonlight reflecting over the water. On the opposite site of the lake they could see the many lights from the Hogsmeade houses dancing in the distance while the calming sounds of the water finished the soothing setting.

"This is nice," Hermione said, cuddling up against her dark witch.

"Hm," said Bellatrix, wrapping an arm around her girlfriend's waist. "Do you have any more of that tea?"

When Hermione flashed her a mischievous grin, she knew something was up. "Why just tea?" she chuckled and started to dig into her backpack and quickly produced a bottle of Nevis Dew whiskey, holding it up triumphantly for Bellatrix to see. "That heart wasn't the only thing I purchased in Dufftown. They do have a very good whiskey shop, Bella."

"How did you get your hands on that?" Bellatrix asked. "You're still one year away from 21. You didn't steal it, did you?"

"Pfft," Hermione made a face. "What do you take me for? No, you should have seen me! You'd be so proud of me. I just walked straight up to the till, all swagger and serious, just plonked it down on the counter and gave him that 'look'."

"What look?" Bellatrix replied. "The sad puppy-eye look? _'Oh, please, please, let me buy this! I'll be ever so grateful! I'm a sad pathetic little school girl who wants to forget her troubles by drinking herself into a coma. Please, please, I need so much alcohol in my life right now! I have all failing grades and my friends hate me. Only whiskey can save me! Please let me buy this whiskey. I might not be alive tomorrow!_ '."

The dark witch let out a cackle when she saw Hermione's expression darken a little. A slight punch to the shoulder followed, which Bellatrix took in stride. "I do _not_ beg like that, ever!" she pouted, but then decided to give a demonstration. She straightened her back, puffed her chest forward, raised her chin and looked Bellatrix straight in the eye. "This look!" she pressed. "You know, the kind of look which says ' _MATE! I'm going to buy this whiskey though, mate, though. No need to ask for my ID or anything, because I'm obviously adult and an experienced drinker, mate. Just ring up that bloody whiskey, though mate, though!_ ' And then he did."

"Uh-huh," Bellatrix snorted. "That's what he thought, you think?"

"I have no doubt," Hermione challenged.

"Well, he's a Scotsman," Bellatrix shot her girl a brief grin. "So I suppose it's fair to say that he was actually thinking _'Go right ahead and drink yourself stupid, you silly sassenach cunt' You'll be drowning in your own vomit tomorrow. And if the whiskey doesn't kill you, you are going to wish it had."_

That earned her another playful punch to the shoulder, much harder this time.

"Go on, then," Bellatrix chuckled, adopting a more mocking tone of voice. "Pour me some of the spoils of your amazing conquest."

The night was young and the stars were out. But other than that, the evening got a little hazy for Bellatrix. When the sun on her face awoke her the next morning, she was still lying on the blanket at the lakeside, a slight headache and a dry throat being the remnants of last night's revelries. Hermione lay draped partly over her, clutching onto her body and having one leg hooked around hers.

Snippets of memories came back to her. There'd been dancing in the moonlight, chatting and liberal amounts of kissing, but thankfully the both of them still had their clothes on. Lovemaking by the lakeside wouldn't have been a bad thing, but to be found sleeping naked by someone from Hogsmeade walking their dog in the morning sounded considerably less appealing.

The whiskey bottle lay in the sand next to the blanket, missing about three-fourths of its content. It was then that Hermione stirred, groaning in agony as she was obviously a lot worse off than Bellatrix was. Looking pale and haggard, the younger witch made a grasp for her forehead and squeezed her eyelids more shut than they already were.

"Ooooohhhhhhhhh," she groaned. "Why did I buy that whiskey?!"

A cackle escaped from Bellatrix after she stole a look at Hermione's watch. "Shall I tell you something more, pet? You're expected to be in class in about ten minutes."

"Nnnnnnooooooooooooooo," Hermione groaned in despair.

Bellatrix chuckled and stroked a hand through Hermione's long brown hair. "You should have thought of that before drinking yourself stupid, you silly sassenach cunt."

Hermione's body shook a little as she tried to suppress a giggle. "Fuck you," was her strained yet well-meant reply.


	19. Obsession

"It's interesting, really," Bellatrix shook her head, once again deep in conversation with Terry McDiarmid in his practice in Fort William. "It's... like they just don't care! Hermione almost got her head blasted off by a surge of wild magic and she was just so infuriatingly blase about the whole thing."

"Hm," said Terry. "I don't find it strange. You are intimately familiar with the dangers of magic as you've been in plenty of life-or-death situations involving it. Believe it or not, a lot of muggle soldiers feel quite the same when they see young people playing around with firearms, not realizing just how deadly even the smallest of pistols can be. I personally have seen combat and know the dangers they pose and gave my young nephews a stern lecture when I spotted them throwing a loaded hunting rifle around."

"Precisely! Finally someone who understands and it's a muggle of all people!" Bellatrix pressed. "They... they don't _respect_ magic. It's as if everyone in this world just treats magic as if it's a toy! It's infuriating. Honestly, this world could use a good wizarding world war or two!"

Terry cocked his head slightly. "You don't mean that."

Bellatrix let out a sigh. "Probably not."

"So what happened afterwards," said Terry. "Be honest."

Bellatrix shook her head. "I lost it. Pure and simple," she said. "I haven't felt rage like that since I first arrived in this world."

"How do you feel about the incident now that you look back upon it with a clearer head?" asked Terry.

Bellatrix thought for a moment. "It was... unsettling," replied Bellatrix. "If Hermione'd been hit by that wild magic surge, there'd no doubt in my mind that I would have killed that boy. The sheer amount of rage that I felt that moment... Merlin, I thought I was getting _better..._ "

It was odd just how bitter she felt about this setback.

"Don't think that you're not," replied Terry. "You've been making a lot of progress over the past few months, but never forget that the road to recovery is not a straight and narrow. It'll fraught with perils and potential setbacks just like this one. Parts of the journey will be more difficult than others."

"Lovely," Bellatrix rolled her eyes. Still, a challenge was a challenge, and Bellatrix was not someone who'd back away from one.

"I'll remind you that it's not a path you'll have to walk alone," said Terry. "Hermione is an anchor for you, of a sort."

Bellatrix snorted. "Oh, she'd love to hear that," she muttered, but then smiled. "I'm happy she's there with me. There was suddenly a dog bed in my living room. Then I noticed a few muggle contraptions strewn about. Hermione has been decorating my... _our_ shack and I hadn't even noticed."

Terry nodded. "You've been steadily building a balance of stability in your life, but let last week happenings be a reminder that that balance is still a fragile one and you still have plenty of challenges ahead of you."

"There's something else. I had a flashback after things got a little bit rough... in bed," she started, not entirely comfortable discussion her sex-life with her male therapist. Of course, by now Terry knew this and at least respected her boundaries on this part of her life for the most part, never bringing it up unless she herself did.

"This was with consent?" he asked.

"Yes," Bellatrix said. "At least, I think so. Suddenly, I was just hit with this memory of the... other Hermione, in my world, the one whom I'd..."

"... tortured?" Terry finished, to which Bellatrix only nodded. "It's not strange for negative emotions to linger after an outburst earlier in the day."

"It was so real. As if the clock had been turned back," Bellatrix cast her eyes downward. "It felt as if I was really there, with Hermione pinned underneath me. Crying. Bleeding. Begging for me to stop. Next thing I know, she's sitting right next to me, asking if I'm alright..."

"And were you?"

Bellatrix snorted. "In my mind, I know these two girls aren't the same people, not by a long-shot. She never felt the pain I inflicted on the other Hermione. But in my heart? I wanted to run out of the shack, find the nearest bridge and jump off it. Not that I'd ever say that to my Hermione. Any hint of suicidal thoughts would make her go berserk."

"Because of her father," nodded Terry. "As for suicidal thoughts..."

"It passed as quickly as it came," Bellatrix said resolutely. "Suicide is cowardice. Me poisoning myself on top of the astronomy tower was an act of pure cowardice. I see that now."

Terry didn't reply. "If the other Hermione was here in this room right now, what would you tell her?"

"Nothing!" Bellatrix hissed, raising her voice a little. "The point is moot! She's not here, is she?! And she'll never hear what I'd tell her."

"Even so. It's important to clear the air, more for your sake than for hers," Terry pressed. "What would you want to say to her?"

Bellatrix glared at Terry, stubbornly refusing to answer and raised her chin imperiously, daring him to further this line of questioning.

Terry, however, was not deterred.

"Imagine the other Hermione _is_ your Hermione," Terry pressed. "What would you say to her?"

Bellatrix bristled and, as many times before, fought the urge to hex him into next Thursday for daring to do this to her, to make her feel so vulnerable and weak. But by now she also knew if she ever wanted to get better, if she wanted to _heal_ , she'd have to.

"I'd tell her," Bellatrix spat the words. "That I made her suffer because I feared what the dark lord would to do me and my family if I didn't. It'd tell her that... that... That's I'm sorry, alright?! That I'm sorry! Is that what you want to hear?! I'm sorry I tortured Hermione! I'm sorry that I tortured the Longbottoms! I'm sorry that I ever bought into all that pure-blood bollocks my family had a raging boner for! I'm sorry that I fell in with the dark lord to begin with! I'm sorry I buggered up my entire stupid fucking life! IS THAT WHAT YOU FUCKING WANT TO HEAR?! IS IT?!"

By now, Bellatrix's chest was heaving as tears streamed over her cheeks. Terry said nothing, instead handing her a handkerchief for her to dry her tears with. She gladly took it, feeling a bit embarrassed about the outburst. Embarrassed, yes, but also relieved. Nobody ever said the road to recovery would be an easy path to walk.

* * *

Once again, Bellatrix stepped out of Terry McDiarmid's office feeling as if an entire herd of centaurs had stampeded right over her. It wasn't the first time and it certainly wouldn't be the last. She excused herself to fix her make-up: it would do no good to go to Hermione's birthday party at Malfoy Manor with tear-streaked runny mascara, after all.

Thankfully, Andie was waiting for her and gave her the support she needed.

Today was a special day. There'd be no tests today, as today would be completely dedicated to the celebration of Hermione's twentieth birthday. While Hermione and her friends would travel by train, Bellatrix had still needed to attend her weekly therapy session and pick up her gift in Fort William. So, she had traveled by carpet with Andie, whom had loaded her carpet with all manner of boxes which were no doubt filled to the brim with tasty treats especially prepared for today's party.

Andie had left their carpet outside the city and hidden it with an invisibility charm, which left them to wander through the Fort William high street. They found themselves sitting in the Grog and Gruel: though Bellatrix really longed for a smoke, she knew Andromeda didn't like that. So, she would settle for a craft ale and a plate of fish-and-chips.

"Merlin, you look like you've seen a ghost," said Andie. "Are these sessions always this brutal?"

"Most of the time yes," replied Bellatrix after popping a chip into her mouth. "I just keep telling myself it's for a good cause."

"It is," smile Andie. "For what it's worth, I'm so happy that teleportation accident brought you in our lives. I didn't have a big sister for over twenty-five years. Now I have _two_."

Bellatrix took a sip from her ale and allowed Andie to grab hold of her free hand. "You do realize that ghost girl had been floating around Hogwarts for all that time, yes?"

Andie closed her eyes for a moment. "I don't think I could have faced her," Andie said. "Or maybe I just wanted to believe Cissy's justification that she wasn't really our sister. Cissy was hurting too when our Bella died."

"Is that why you never married?" Bellatrix asked.

Andie shrugged. "Had some relationships. Never went anywhere. I just felt on some level that I didn't deserve to be happy."

Bellatrix took another sip. Survivor's guilt, Terry had once explained to her, could be just as crippling to one's life as any other form of PTSD.

"But..." Andie offered a sly grin. "Well, let's just say that after having a chat with my ghostly sister, this old girl had gotten the confidence to ask a very nice gentleman out for a date on the town."

"Oh?" Bellatrix raised an eyebrow. "Anyone I know? I need to know if I must swoop in to protect your virtue."

Andie made a face. "Whatever virtue I had left was cast into the wind a long time ago," Andie chuckled. "But yes, I should hope you know him. He's the nice muggle-studies professor from Hogwarts, Thomas Riddle."

Instantly, craft ale shot right up and out Bellatrix' nose. Coughing heavily, Bellatrix put down her ale and gently pounded the top of her sternum to try to clear her airways. "R-riddle?!" she exclaimed, instantly hit with the mental image of her little sister having a bit of a dance with the dark lord before she reminded herself he wasn't any dark lord in this world.

"What?" Andie winked. "He's a very nice man. And he loves my crumpets."

"Oh, I bet he does," Bellatrix muttered under her breath.

"Jealous?" Andie gave her a playful smile, not realizing that scant a few months ago, Bellatrix would have been _insanely_ jealous, emphasis on the insane.

Bellatrix had recovered from her ale-induced coughing fit, sitting forward slightly. "Just keep in mind that if he takes you out for a whiskey-tasting, he can actually stomach a lot of drink."

"I happen to love whiskey-tasting," Andie winked. "Oh, before I forget, I got another letter from uncle Rigel."

"Uncle Rigel?"

Andie scoffed. "Bella, I told you so many times already. Uncle Rigel, the head of the family of the Montana Blacks!"

"Oh, right," said Bellatrix, reminded of the Black family branch living in the States, the one that didn't exist in her own world.

"He's still asking when he and the rest of the family will get to meet you," Andie said.

Bellatrix shrugged. "Who knows, when we actually figure out this teleportation lark, I suppose. I don't have the time to take off on a trip abroad."

"You know, you can just get to the States on a muggle airplane, right?" Andie said.

"Are you mad?!" Bellatrix hissed. "Wild hippogryphs couldn't drag me on board one of those big metal muggle Boings!"

"It's really not that bad," said Andie. "I've done it plenty of times and it only takes about nine hours. As opposed to the six days it'll take for an underwater wizarding ship to reach the shores of the Americas and then still having to travel halfway across the country by carpet."

"Bollocks," said Bellatrix. "If this uncle Rigel is so eager to meet me, _he_ is free to take off with one of those Boings."

"You're hopeless," Andie smiled. "Oh, and speaking of taking off, it's about time we get underway!"

After finishing their drinks, they left town and swiftly boarded Andie's carpet to fly towards Wiltshire. The trip took a bit longer than a trip by train and it was far past noon when they arrived. Still, they were still on time and it seemed the trio had been enjoying themselves in their playroom up until that point. Good. Birthdays were meant to be lazy affairs.

While Draco and Luna kept Hermione distracted upstairs, herself, her sisters and Lucius set up the table in the drawing room. When it was time for the birthday girl to celebrate, Luna and Draco guided a blind-folded Hermione down the stairs and into the living room. And, after a brief bout of swearing when she stubbed her toe against the side of the fireplace, she found herself sitting at the head of the dinner table. It was there that Bellatrix removed the blind-fold.

Instantly, the table exploded with loud noises and enchanted fireworks as dancing gingerbread men raised their top hats as they moved around surface of the table, while balloons merrily floated around. Lucius blew on a paper noisemaker, while Draco let out a cheer. In the middle of the table stood a three-tiered lemon-blueberry cake, Hermione's favorite. The sprinkles on the cake were enchanted to move around the cake, alternating with forming the messages 'Happy Birthday Hermione!' and 'TWENTY!'.

Hermione let out an ecstatic laugh of pure joy as she found herself surrounded with her friends in celebration. Twenty candles adorned the cake and Andie motioned for her to blow them out. Hermione did so, but had some trouble with the last one as it simply refused to go out. Determined not to be defeated, Hermione simply picked it out of the cake and dunked it in a glass of water.

Above their heads, Bellatrix's ghostly counterpart swished around like a firecracker, moving so fast that show started to form in the air. Snowflakes landed on the table, their heads and the foot as the ghostly girl whooped with joy. Meanwhile, Spock was running around the table apparently unable to choose between being excited by the all the activity or being afraid of the ghost girl.

Glasses of champagne were quickly filled as the celebration started in earnest. The cake was cut, drinks were had and it soon became time for the giving of gifts.

First up were Lucius and Narcissa, who gave her the first present to unwrap. Hermione gasped when she found that the present contained a lovely evening gown.

"Twenty years old," said Narcissa. "Time to be a touch more ladylike. I'll remind you that I was married at your age."

Bellatrix shot her a look as this message was apparently also meant for her as much as it was meant for Hermione. Narcissa gave her a smile of knowing mirth, making Bellatrix feel just a tad bit uncomfortable.

"Put it on!" sounded from Andie and Hermione briefly slipped upstairs to try on the dress. When Hermione came back down the stairs, one look at her made Bellatrix's throat go dry. Clad in a black satin gown reaching down to the floor, Hermione made a striking image. The gown was perfectly sized, hugging her figure. A slit on the side of the dress showed off a shapely long leg. Hermione did a playful pirouette, showing off an amazingly deep cleavage and a back that was mostly bare down to the small of her back, while long brown hair cascaded freely over her skin. The only thing 'off' about this image was the fact that Hermione had put on her usual pair of sneakers, rather than a more fitting choice of footwear. However, Bellatrix didn't really mind what was on her girlfriend's feet, certainly not when her cleavage was on display the way it was.

"Close your mouth," Narcissa told Bellatrix. "Before you catch a fly."

Bellatrix shot her an angry look, causing the younger sister to stifle a giggle while Hermione took her seat. "I love it! Thank you so much!" she said, her smile one of pure radiance.

Next up was Draco, giving her a package. The present contained a picture frame which cycled through a myriad of moving photographs of the three of them together through the many years they had spent at Hogwarts and at the manor. Hermione watched it for a while as the photographs cycled through, apparently bombarded with many fond memories. "Oh, god... not this one," she closed her eyes and moaned. "It wasn't my fault Spock's hair got into the polyjuice potion."

"Poor Hermione," Draco chuckled. "You were humping girls' legs for an entire week, Dreamer!"

"What's so different from a non half-dog polyjuiced Hermione, then?" Luna winked at her, earning herself a playful punch to the shoulder.

"I love it," Hermione said, giving Draco a hug.

Cue Luna and her gift, which turned out to be a carton of cigarettes. Camel, mint-flavoured: Hermione's favorites. When the others gave Luna a questioning look, she just shrugged. "It's _her_ lungs. She can do with them however she pleases."

Another hug was given. Next up would be Bellatrix. She tried to act as nonchalant as possible, practically throwing the tiny box on the table. "Yes, uhm, this is for you," she said. "Just a little thing, really. Hope you like it."

Bellatrix actually felt a lump of nerves in her throat when Hermione fiddled with the ribbon around the gift package. Had she done right? Hermione would like this? Well, of course she would like it. Wouldn't she?

In her mind, she was already coming up with excuses in case Hermione wouldn't like her gift, but thankfully, this was didn't turn out to be necessary. Hermione gasped as she lifted the pendant from its golden chain and held it out. The gold of the delta symbol caught the light, reflecting it brightly. But not brighter than the sheer warmth of Hermione's smile.

"Bella!" Hermione whispered softly. "Thank you so much!"

Bellatrix needed a moment to compose herself. "Twenty is a special age. I wanted to give you a special gift."

Hermione gave her a smile. "Will you put it on me?"

Bellatrix nodded and got up from her seat. She gently took the necklace and opened the clasp while Hermione bunched up her hair and held it to one side, giving Bellatrix all the access to her slender neck. She held the pendant in front of her girl's chest and lay the necklace onto her skin, closing the clasp. Once Hermione stood up, the golden delta symbol was neatly nestled above her cleavage. The young witch took a moment to admire herself in the mirror located on the door of the drawing room silverware cupboard. Bellatrix stood behind her, placing her hands on her shoulders and taking a moment to kiss the top of her head. "You look beautiful..." she whispered.

Hermione turned around and took her dark lover in a fierce embrace. "Thank you so much! I love it!"

Glad that her gift was well received, Bellatrix rejoined the celebrations which soon ensued into a feeding frenzy of cake and champagne took place. Not a single dancing gingerbread man survived the vicious onslaught.

Several hours, some party games, a smoke-break and loads of food and drink later, it was decided to play some music over the radio. Andie and Ghost-Bellatrix were quietly chatting near the quickly dwindling fire, while Spock had placed two paws on the table and managed to reach a piece of half-eaten cake on the table which he was happily lapping up. Meanwhile, Luna and Draco lay sprawled on the sofa.

"Ooohh," Draco muttered. "If I eat more cake I'll explode."

"I... I think I had too much champagne," Luna replied, lying with her legs propped against the headrest and her head over the side of the cushion. "The room's spinning. Or maybe I'm spinning."

Feeling a mite tipsy herself, Bellatrix had taken Hermione for a dance as a slow ballad played over the radio. Lucius and Narcissa had joined them, dancing equally slow and equally close.

Together, she and Hermione flowed like water as they danced. The dark witch felt her girl's body press into hers: the softness of her skin, the beating of her heart, the rising of her chest, the smell of her hair. Sweet Merlin, could this girl be any sexier? The sultry look in Hermione's lovely brown eyes told her that Hermione had similar desires. A slight smile tugged on the edge of Hermione's lips. A smile full of promise and desire.

The song continued and Hermione gently placed her forehead against Bellatrix's. Their lips were so close she could feel Hermione's breath on her skin. Locked in an almost-kiss, the two continued to dance, feeling Hermione's arms around her, her own hands on the skin of Hermione's exposed back and feeling the softness of Hermione long hair. It was all she could do to keep herself from throwing the girl on the table and having her right there.

The slow song on the radio made way for a somewhat faster tuned older pop-song and as soon as she heard the first chords, Hermione's eyes lit up. "This is one of my favorites," she laughed, her eyes twinkling.

" _Like the wind,_

_You came running._

_Take the consequence of leaving."_

Bellatrix was disappointed about losing Hermione's closeness as she parted from her, but her breath caught in her throat when the younger witch found a wilder dancing rhythm.

" _There's no space._

_There's no tomorrow._

_There's no sense for new division."_

Hermione twirled and her dress danced around her. She rocked her head on the beat of the song, sending her long brown hair wildly through the air.

" _Check it in check it out,_

_Cause the sun won't ever die._

_There is only one way,_

_And it's time for you to fly."_

The young witched moved closer to her now, rocking her hips slightly as the song swept up. She looked at her with intensity in those soulful brown eyes of hers. Love. Lust. Desire. All in equal measure. Of all the women in the world she could have chosen from, Hermione desired _her_ above all of them. Ironically, a woman from outside her own world.

" _Like the wind,_

_You're gonna suffer._

_They're so smart, but you know better."_

The dance continued and Bellatrix could only stand there being paralyzed. Hermione's eyes were still locked on hers as she parted her lips slightly and let the tip of her tongue glide from one corner of her mouth to the other.

' _She's... she's playing the seduction-game_!' Bellatrix realized. This dance... it was meant for her and her alone.

This most mysterious song had suddenly become her favorite song in the entire universe and beyond.

" _There's no pain,_

_There's no sorrow,_

_In the young and restless dreaming._ "

The fluid movements of her dance, the swaying of her hips, the slight bounce of her breasts. Hermione _wanted_ her to look. To see it all. Take it all in.

" _Check it in check it out,_

_Cause the sun won't ever die._

_There is only one way,_

_And it's somewhere in your mind."_

Bellatrix was drawn to her Hermione, transfixed like a sardine would be to the light of an angler-fish in the darkness of the deepest depths: powerless before the strike. There was no escape. And why would she even want to? Jaws closed over her, she felt devoured by Hermione's presence, her love, her warmth. It grabbed her and it would never let her go.

" _Check it in check it out,_

_There's a song or two._

_Check it in check it out,_

_It's from me to you."_

She was so close now. She could smell her hair, feel her warmth. Bellatrix was afraid to touch her: it would be like breaking the water tension in a tranquil pond. But Hermione did all the touching for her. She pressed her body against hers again... to think this was the same 'annoying' girl whom had brought her that fruit basket not even so long ago. The girl _she_ had tried to seduce and ingratiate herself to. How the tables had turned.

" _Check it in check it out,_

_There's a song or two._

_Check it in check it out,_

_It's from me to you."_

The song was winding down now, but Hermione had lain her chin on her shoulder. "Why don't we," Hermione whispered in her ear. "Slip upstairs?"

To further her argument, Hermione gently bit down on Bellatrix's earlobe and suckled it for good measure when she was sure no one was looking. Truth be told, Hermione had Bellatrix from the moment she had started her dance, but as it stood, Hermione's gentle ministrations had her swoon and go more than just a little weak in the knees.

Hermione let out a throaty chuckle and took her by the hand, dragging her towards the stairs leading to the play room. So far, the others were either too drunk, too food-coma'd or simply distracted to notice, with one exception: looking over her shoulder, Bellatrix noticed her younger ghostly self giving her a thumbs up.

They almost ran up the stairs and once they arrived at the play room, Bellatrix wanted nothing more than to spin her lover around and kiss her with a mad passion. Unfortunately, she never got the chance. It was Hermione who struck first, turning around and literally pushing her back against the wall. Her lips crushed against hers, instantly forcing her tongue into Bellatrix's mouth. There was nothing gentle about this kiss: this kiss was raw, unbridled passion. This kiss was hunger. This kiss was the purest of lust. The dark witch moaned into her lover's mouth when she felt a hand gently kneading her breast while another rested on her behind. The hand kneading her breast slid over the front of her dress, finding purchase between her thighs: for the first time in ages, Bellatrix cursed her adherence to wizarding fashion as the thick fabric dress did much to limit the sensation of any delicious friction. Had she been wearing trousers, Hermione could have had much easier access. She promised herself to wear trousers more often from this day forward.

Bellatrix let out a lustful groan when Hermione broke the kiss and immediately latched on to the nape of her neck, just underneath her Azkaban tattoo. By now, she was coherent enough to pay Hermione back in kind, grabbing Hermione's bum with both hands and squeezing, eliciting a giggle from Hermione.

A bed.

They needed a bed _right_ now!

Still kissing, the couple made their way to the room she shared with Hermione. Of course, she almost tripped over some piece of mess on Hermione's floor, but paid it no further mind. "Undress me," Hermione demanded, turning her back to her. The shoulder straps were quickly found and the dress fell to the ground after being slid off her body, bearing her beautiful girl to her.

No underwear.

Cheeky.

Of course, that meant she had been planning this dance of seduction from the start, even though she couldn't have known Narcissa would give her that beautiful sexy evening grown. What was that strange 'Ferengi' rule she had mentioned last week? _Opportunity plus Instinct equals Profit?_ Hermione was certainly a quick learner.

Her own dress came off just as quickly, though she still had underwear to deal with. In the end, they stood next to the bed, facing each other wearing only their necklaces. Hermione reached out and held Bellatrix's silver jackdaw skull necklace in her hand while the gold delta symbol glinted in the moonlight. It exemplified just how different Bellatrix was from her.

The silver to her gold. The darkness to her light. The cynicism to her optimism. Opposites, yes, but yet it was undeniable they belonged together.

They kissed again, bodies pressing together. Hermione motioned for her to lie down on her bed, on her stomach. Bellatrix was only too eager to oblige: there were few things in life which were as heavenly as receiving a backrub from her Hermione. The young witch started at her shoulders, gently rubbing, kneading. Already, the dark witch let out a gratified groan. Then soft hands slid over her back, up and down, up and down. Hands over her behind, her thighs. She almost lost it when Hermione led a trail of soft kissed up the length of her spine, her body so close, so warm. The necklace she had bought for her trailed over her skin. An odd sensation.

Hermione draped herself over her dark lover, sliding damp skin over damp skin. Bellatrix swooned when she felt the younger witch's hardened nipples press into her back. A hand grasped a fist of her raven curly hair and roughly yanked her head to one side in a move which was not hard enough to be painful, but not comfortable enough to be gentle either. Hermione captured her lips again: while kissing, a hand slide between her thighs... she shuddered when she felt a finger... two fingers enter her.

Merlin, she was so close to orgasm already. Her breath quickened, her chest heaved as Hermione pleasured her without mercy or relent. Tongues moved in unison, one hand through her hair, another between her legs finding further depths with every thrust. She tried to think of anything repugnant to delay imminent release: Rita Skeeter, Margret Thatcher, muggles dancing the polka, muggles in general, Dumbledore naked...

Unfortunately, it didn't take long for release to roll over her as if it was the Hogwarts Express. She lay in bed moaning and shaking while black spots appeared in front of her eyes. The dark witch lay panting while Hermione lay next to her with an annoyingly smug expression on her face.

Still, Bellatrix had some energy left. A giggling Hermione quickly found herself flipped on her back and Bellatrix was upon her. The dark witch kissed the nape of her neck, making the girl shudder when dark curls brushed her skin. A flick of the tongue around a hardened nipple, a hand on her breast.

Hermione grinned as she looked her in the eye and fondled her curls. Underneath her, Hermione spread her legs for her.

Merlin, even now the brown-haired girt was in complete control. Bellatrix kissed her way down along her stomach, stopping for a moment to lap her tongue around her lover's belly button before moving further down... or rather, being _guided_ further down.

But Bellatrix wouldn't give in without a fight: she was going to make the girl squirm and squeal. The tip of her tongue touched Hermione's most sensitive part and instantly the grip on her hair was released. The young witch threw her head back and let loose a steady moan, gripping the sheets with both hands while she arched her back.

She had her now. She used her tongue to tease, to twirl and to lash against Hermione's wetness. Yes, she had her now, or so she thought. Hermione sat up and shifted forward, grabbing Bellatrix by the hair and pulled her towards her for a deep and passionate kiss. Her hand would finish the job her tongue had started while the two lovers lay kissing in a tight embrace. The dark witch felt the young woman start to tremble before crying out in release.

Together the couple lay panting as they held each other. It was when Hermione looked at her with loving eyes that Bellatrix realized one simple and irrefutable truth: she completely and utterly belonged to Hermione. Mind, body and soul.

And she was perfectly fine with that.

Bellatrix smiled at Hermione, stroking her cheek after brushing away a lock of her lovely brown hair. Hermione returned the favor, wrapping her arms around her waist and pulling her closer to her. To Bellatrix's surprise, Hermione opened her mouth... for a song of all things.

"Happy birthday to me," sang Hermione. "Happy birthday to me!"

The dark witch couldn't help but laugh. There was only one thing she wanted to do tonight: hold on to her Hermione, and never let go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: The song referenced in this story is, of course, The Most Mysterious Song, by, well, nobody knows... Obscure yes, but I imagine that it was a world-wide hit in the Mirror universie.
> 
> If you're interested to learn more, Justin Whang made a great video about it. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=90JvgNQicp0


	20. Where No Man Has Gone Before

Just like any Sunday morning, Hermione and Bellatrix happily lazied around in bed, cuddling for as long as they could get away with. However, it came to the point that they had to get up if they didn't want to miss breakfast. Cissy had always been quite strict on dinner-table punctuality: either be on time or don't eat at all.

Still, there was a bit of time left for some shared shower-time fun in the bathroom and, while Hermione started her usual twenty-minute long morning hairbrush session, Bellatrix decided to share the mirror to do her make-up.

Suddenly, the door handle moved and a slight curse sounded from the other side of the door.

"Occupied!" Bellatrix and Hermione replied at the same time.

"Oh," sounded Draco on the other end of the door. "So, uhm, you two aren't doing something in there that's going to take... time, I hope? I really need to go!"

"It's fine," replied Bellatrix. "Hermione has just started to do her hair."

"Oh, bugger off, I'll be waiting out here forever!"

In response, Hermione blew a raspberry at the door and continued brushing. Though they were good friends, her hair was obviously way more important than the state of Draco's bladder.

Hermione had a surprising amount of vanity when it came to her hair. So much that she risked not having breakfast over the volume of her lovely brown mane. After coming out of the bathroom which was then immediately occupied by Draco to prevent a burst bladder, Hermione voiced her displeasure with her previous twenty minutes of doing her hair and rushed back to their room to do a bit more brushing and add a bit more spray. However, she knew Hermione long enough by now that 'a bit more' could easily result in twenty minutes of yet more hair-care. So, Bellatrix went downstairs to save some breakfast for her before it would be all gone.

Fortunately, it didn't seem like she would have to. There was no breakfast on the table in the kitchen and found a yawning Cissy sat on a wooden chair in front of an empty plate.

"Good morning," Bellatrix greeted with a raised eyebrow.

"Morning," Narcissa greeted with a tired voice. "Apologies for the lack of breakfast this morning. Feel free to help yourself. Luna and Lucius are already in the lab working."

"Hm," said Bellatrix while opening the fridge and taking out a packet of sliced ham to put on breakfast sandwich. "It's unlike you not to have breakfast arranged, ready and perfectly timed to when everyone wakes up, Cissy."

"Forgive my indulgence," said Narcissa, suppressing another yawn. "I've spent most of the night talking to Andromeda and our ghostly elder sister."

"Oh?" Bellatrix sat down at the table, having prepared a Spartan breakfast by plopping a bit of ham on top of a slice of bread. "What manner of subject kept you up all night?"

"Believe it or not," Narcissa smile to herself. "Dating advice. Andie has been getting steadily more nervous as her first date approaches. Poor thing doesn't have much experience. Granted, our ghostly sister had a lot of useful tips."

"Hm," said Bellatrix. "She's been the school agony aunt since the late sixties. She'd know a thing or two about dating advice."

"It seems some of the women in my family are simply late-bloomers," Cissy smiled while sipping her tea.

Before taking a bite, Bellatrix frowned as she put down her sandwich again. "You're not talking about Andie anymore, are you?"

Narcissa leaned forward, a smile playing at her lips. "I've known Hermione for years. She's always been jovial, enthusiastic, kind and, well, fanciful. But underneath it all, there was this subtle hint of sadness and loneliness within her. Granted, she hid it well and it was hard to spot unless you knew what you were looking for. But ever since you and her became involved, that's completely gone. It's hard to deny the change in you as well. Unlike her, you've never really bothered hiding your dour side."

Bellatrix glanced over to the kitchen window and the sun shining over the rolling green hills in the distance. "This world has been kind to me," Bellatrix replied softly. "Kinder than my own."

Narcissa reached over and grasped her hand. "And you deserve it. You deserve Hermione. Never doubt that. Never deny that to yourself. Whatever happened in the past, whatever the things you had to do... they don't matter anymore. You have your fresh start right here. With us."

The dark witch said nothing, other than taking her sister's hand and squeezing it slightly.

It was at that moment that Hermione came bouncing down the stairs, causing Bellatrix to glance at the clock. "Hm, only fifteen minutes. That has to be a new speed record for you."

"Oh, jog on!" Hermione snorted playfully while sauntering over to the fridge to grab a pint of milk. Hermione was wearing muggle clothing: a pair of woman's jeans, converse and a rather baggy beige shirt. Something about seeing Hermione in muggle clothing... which was almost all the time outside of a school uniform... drove her absolutely wild. And that baggy shirt was perfect for her to snake her hand under to gently rub it all over Hermione's wonderful abs. Bellatrix did just that after Hermione sat down next to her with pint of milk. As per usual, Hermione gave her a sultry smile and shifted a little to give her easier access: her girl was quite proud of her abs, after all.

The only thing Hermione balked about was when a free hand was headed towards her head. "Hey!" she protested. "Not the hair!"

"I just want to ruffle it a little," Bellatrix smirked.

"Not on your nelly!" Hermione replied. "I just got it right, so don't muck it up!"

Bellatrix gave her an evil smile. "That only makes me want to ruffle your hair up more," she said, tightening her grip around Hermione's waist while hovering her free hand ever closer.

"No, Bella! NO!" Hermione giggled as she started to squirm and protest.

Narcissa watched the spectacle unfold with a warm smile, until she leaned back and grinned at Bellatrix. "Don't think I didn't see the two of you slipping upstairs last night. You can't just keep playing around like randy teenagers. Think about your futures, hm? Especially you, Bella. You're the eldest and the most responsible one. So when are you going to make an honest woman out of Hermione?"

Bellatrix blinked, feeling much like a hippogryph standing on the rails of the approaching Hogwarts Express. Hermione turned to her with a grin. "Yes. That's a very good question. Hm. Hermione Black. Sounds good, doesn't it?"

While Bellatrix was still stunned, Hermione's hands shot out to her curly hair and ruffled up her dark mane considerably before hopping off her chair and running off into the corridor. Bellatrix, whose countenance now resembled a particularly unkempt poodle, slowly turned her head towards Narcissa. Her sister gently patted her hand again. "Think about it," she winked.

* * *

After her simple breakfast, Bellatrix found herself back in the lab with the others. Though yesterday was entirely dedicated to Hermione's birthday, none of them wanted to give up too much valuable testing time on the seemingly never-ending attempts to get teleportation magic working. Such was fine by Bellatrix: she got to spend time with Hermione and her family during these sessions and it was not as if she had anything better to do. Would it ever work? She couldn't say. But there was at least some measure of clear progress.

Most of the morning was spent turning apples into mush by method of failed teleportation. Certainly, if this teleportation contraption never ended up working, at least Lucius could boast that he had invented the world's most over-complicated fruit-juicer.

Bellatrix sat on her knees to reset the disseminator in between tests while Lucius rambled off the figures for what would be test number forty-two today. While working, she felt three soft fingers slide over her cheek: looking up she found a smiling Hermione looking at her as she passed by, turning around and walking backwards for a bit to show off the golden pendant she was wearing over her regular clothes before returning to work on reconnecting the flow regulators. As per usual, her ghostly younger self was calmly sat on top of the machine to cool it, patiently and without complaint.

By now, Hermione's dog had sauntered into the lab and plopped down on a tarp to play with a squeaky ball. Luna immediately complained that the noise was distracting.

"Right, power up machine," announced Lucius.

"You know," said Draco as he looked at Spock playing with his ball. "Sometimes I wish I were a dog."

"Oh," frowned Luna. "So you can lick your own bollocks and shit wherever you want?"

That elicited a cackle from Bellatrix's ghostly counterpart and a chuckle from Hermione.

"What? No, Schwarzenegger, no!" Draco sighed. "I mean look at him. Always happy, always getting attention and loads of free food."

Lucius placed an apple on the platform. "There is something to say about ignorance being bliss. But I'd rather not give up my sentience."

"What?" Hermione spoke indignantly, crossing her arms as the magic starting flowing through the machine. "Are you saying my dog is stupid?"

"Well, he's not getting any smarter," Luna replied while pulling a few levers. "Remember the time he ate that piece of string from the waste basket?"

"That was an accident!" Hermione protested.

Bellatrix smirked at her girl. "He keeps barking at his own reflection."

"All dogs do that!" Hermione huffed indignantly.

"What about the time when he got his head stuck in the catflap?" Lucius spoke, a twinkle in his eye. Behind him, the apple disappeared with a magical crackle.

Hermione, once again, crossed her arms and glared. "That could have happened to _anyone_! Besides, why do you still have that thing? You and Narcissa haven't had a cat in years!"

"Right," said Draco as he moved towards the other end of the machine. "I'll go clean up the mess."

Meanwhile, Hermione knelt down next to her dog and hugged him around the neck, pressing her cheek against his fur. "Don't listen to those rotters, Spock. You're very smart. Oh, yes, yes, you are! So very smart!"

"Uh... guys?" sounded a rather timid Draco.

Bellatrix rolled her eyes when she saw Hermione cuddle her dog. Unfortunately, the two of them came as a package-deal. Still, she supposed she could tolerate the mutt.

"Guys..." sounded Draco, more insistent this time.

"So smart, yes so smart!" Hermione kissed the top of her beloved alsatian's head.

"Arf!" sounded a happy dog.

"GUYS!" Draco shouted out to them now.

The reason for this became very clear when they gathered to see what Draco was on about. There, on the receiving platform, sat a pristine-looking green apple. Silence was all around as if they were all processing just what they were seeing. After so many tests, so many attempts, this would be the first time an apple had gone through the machine intact.

Nobody dared speak at first as if to not break this miracle.

"Careful, it might still explode!" warned Lucius.

They all stood gathered around the apple, simply staring at it, almost afraid to move, speak or even think. The apple was simply stood on the pedestal, simply being an apple.

Having had enough, Bellatrix snatched it from its perch, brought it to her mouth and took a big bite. With the gathered looking at Bellatrix as if she had just poured a container of Caesium-137 right into her mouth, she chewed and swallowed. "Tastes like a perfectly normal apple to me," was her conclusion.

"Not exactly a scientific test," said Luna. "But I'll take it."

Lucius roved his wand over it. "No anomalies. No magical eddies. No internal disintegration. Luna, what were the figures of this test?"

Luna rambled off some numbers. The setup from the previous test was re-entered to run it exactly as it had before. Another apple was put on the platform, and that same apple was harmlessly teleported to the receiving platform. "It's repeatable," Luna whispered, unable to keep the excitement out of her voice. "It's repeatable!"

"Holy shit!" Draco laughed and took a moment to hug his father. "We did it! We actually did it."

"More tests!" Lucius exclaimed.

And more tests they did. From apples they moved on to different objects. A solid lead ball. A chair. A broom. A lamp. All went through the machine without so much as a hitch and arrived on the other side of the contraption just fine. Then they changed the distance between funnels and tested again. The distance, apparently, played no role as all objects arrived in a perfectly pristine condition. Draco then dragged the entire barrel of apples onto the platform. It also arrived without problems and none of the separate items were fused together in any way.

Then came the more interesting phase: translating the figures into charms and spells and no longer relying on the machinery to regulate the flow of magic through the contraption. The ghost girl was no longer needed to cool the machine now that a predicable ice-charm could do that task, but she still floated around with interest. Bellatrix and Luna, recognized as the most talented and precise casters, performed the spells needed to activate the teleport. It took a few tries at first, but objects started to arrive in a pristine state.

The mood grew ever more elated with every test. More and more objects were sent through the machine, ranging from small beakers to large pieces of furniture. At first, an attempted with sending a mannequin through caused some consternation because it arm fell off during transport, leaving it on the departing platform while the rest of the thing was transported. It turned this was because it had not been fastened properly and it falling off was not related to the teleport spell. A second attempt was successful.

The next test was to transport a living creature. Said living creating being a weevil-bat in a cage. The weevil-bat came out of the other end like a perfectly normal, happy living weevil-bat. Same with a white lab-rat. Bellatrix and Luna exchanged a grin: the magic they performed was tiring, but seeing the results were satisfying and even energizing them to go on.

"I think we all just got famous," Draco chuckled.

"All tests are positive," said Lucius. "Items mundane and magical go through without any issues. There is no form of molecular or magical decay. Living creatures pass through without issues. Once... once we show our finding to the Wizengamot, we'll finally be given proper resources. Imagine, we could start human trials in a few months!"

"Why wait?" sounded the soft voice of Hermione as she gave her friends a warm smile. "I'll go."

It took Bellatrix a few moments to register just what Hermione was saying. "What?!" she hissed. "No! You can't! You're daft!"

"Bella," Hermione smiled. "I _want_ to do this. It's one of the reasons why I helped Lucius. I've always wanted to be a pioneer on a grand adventure. To be the first human being to be magically transported! How amazing would that be?"

"This isn't a story in one of your stupid muggle picture-plays!" Bellatrix hissed. "This is reality!"

"Bella..." Hermione started.

The dark witch turned her head. "Send the dog instead!" she said, pointing at Spock still chewing on his squeaky ball.

"Arf!" replied the dog in between chews.

"What?!" Hermione gave her a look of shock. "That's horrible! What if something goes wrong?!"

"You're worried about the dog, but not _yourself?!"_ Bellatrix all but shouted in pure disbelief.

"I get to choose! Spock doesn't!" Hermione protested.

Bellatrix felt tears sting in her eyes. "Oh, for Merlin's sake. Hermione, don't this!"

Hermione stepped closer and placed a hand on cheek. The soothing touch of Hermione's skin on hers calmed her down somewhat, but even so her heart was still pounding in her chest. "I'll be fine, Bella," Hermione whispered. "I trust you and Luna."

"I can't lose you!" Bellatrix whispered to her. "I don't know what I'd do if I'd..."

"This... this is the moment I was born for," Hermione smiled. "Don't you see? I _have_ to do this!"

Bellatrix felt a lump in her throat as Hermione withdrew her hand and slowly stepped onto the departing platform. Lucius approached her, his expression one of worry. "Hermione? Are you sure you want to do this?" he asked, obviously torn between the idea of risking Hermione's life while at the same time being so very curious about the outcome.

Hermione laughed. "Just make sure there's no fly with me in the transport. I don't want to end up as a Granger-fly creature."

"Hah", said Draco as he shared a brief hug with her. "Brundle-fly. You taught me that reference, Dreamer."

Bellatrix shot forward in a final desperate attempt to get her girlfriend from going through with this. "Hermione, no!" she said, spinning her around and grabbing her by the shoulders. "I'll go! Send _me_!"

Hermione smiled at her, trying so hard to reassure her. "Bella," she whispered. "You and Luna have to cast the spells, silly. Come on, we've been sending stuff through the machine all day. Why would it suddenly go wrong now? Bella, we've been talking so much about purpose and meaning. This is mine."

Defeated, Bellatrix stepped back to stand next to Luna. She and the blonde-haired girl shared a look. Luna's expression seemed to be telling her ' _I swear, if you fuck this up I'll find the most painful way to end you in the slowest way possible'_. And, Bellatrix being Bellatrix, she was certain that their own expression said much the same. Good, at least they understood each other.

Stood in front of the funnel, Hermione grasped a hand around the delta symbol hanging from her necklace and softly whispered to herself. "To boldy go where no man has gone before..."

Never in her life had Bellatrix ever performed a spell with the careful precision that she had as she did today. The motions as fluent as she could muster, her mind forcing tight control over the flow of magic through her body and into her wand. Even the release of the magic was tightly controled, her endless willpower leashing it and preventing any kind of wild magic from getting loose.

The magic flew forth from her wand towards the contraption. Hermione took a deep breath and straightened her back... just before disappearing with a magical crackle.

Instantly, Bellatrix dropped her wand and ran towards the other end of the machine. In her mind, she was almost certain she had failed the spell somehow, giving way to all manner of horror-shows: Hermione could be horribly splinced. Or missing limbs. Or been cut in half. Or even turned inside out. Fused with something the lab. Or, perhaps worst of all, never materialize at all.

When she came to the receiving platform, relief washed over her as she found Hermione standing there safe and sound. Gasping. Smiling. Laughing. "That... that was amazing!" Hermione yelled out, letting out a whoop. The dark witch rushed her and took her in the tightest embrace she could muster... an embrace Hermione gladly returned while all around her cheers sounded from the others.

"Don't ever scare me that again!" Bellatrix hissed angrily, before being overcome by Hermione's closeness. "I love you, pet. I love you so much!"

Those words certainly had an effect on Hermione, as she looked at her with those soulful, brown now watery eyes of her. "I love you too, Bella," she whispered, then smiled. "Best birthday present ever!"

A hard thud sounded from the door. All heads turned to see a rather amusing spectacle. Severus Snape had entered the lab with Narcissa in tow, the angry woman obviously had been attempting to stop him from barging in. The thud came from his travel bag which had been dropped to the floor... right next to his jaw as he stood there, frozen in time after having just witnessed a magical miracle.

Once everyone had sufficiently recovered, they had all withdrawn to the drawing room where Snape worked through his shock with tea and Andie's scones. The Head Master took in a few deep breaths and regarded both Bellatrix and Hermione.

"I came here to find our missing disseminator," said Snape. "And possibly to fire you, miss Black, and expel miss Granger, depending on your excuses. I admit, you were quite thorough in hiding your tracks, but not thorough enough. I went through the logs again and again, but when I did a visual inspection of store-room five, I concluded that a large number of devices had been moved around the start of summer. All were devices which Lucius had requested the use of during his first rounds of experiments at Hogwarts. It wasn't hard to put two and two together."

Snape sipped his tea, his hand shaking somewhat still. "But after this... This will change everything. Teleportation is a branch of magic which has never worked. Until now. I'll be frank Lucius, I never believed your claims. But it seems that I owe you an apology."

He extended his hand and, after a brief moment of hesitation, Lucius took it. "Accepted," replied Lucius.

"So _am_ I fired, then?" Bellatrix asked.

"No," said Snape. "Though I do expect you to correct the logs retroactively first thing tomorrow morning. And you must realize that it might take a while for me to fully trust you again on a professional level."

"Fair enough," replied Bellatrix. "On both counts."

"And before you ask, miss Granger," said Snape. "I won't expel you either. I'd have to be mad to expel the first ever witch to be teleported by magic. I'm interested to hear your experience. But I'll tell you one thing though: once knowledge of this successful experiment hits public, your lives will never be the same. You'll be approached by the press, by headhunters for businesses, by the Ministry of possibly all nations, by scholars, by all manner of charlatans. Fame will follow, likely wealth too. I urge you to be careful and keep your feet firmly planted on the ground."

"To be honest," said Draco. "I don't think we thought that far ahead. We'd just be happy if we'd get it to work."

Snape nodded. "People rarely do, mister Malfoy," said Snape. "I urge you to take control of the situation yourself. First of all, patent your work and follow the procedures so no one can take credit for your invention. Only then do a presentation in front of the Wizengamot and perform the teleportation yourself. Of course, I would be remiss if I wouldn't ask you to strongly consider Hogwarts when it comes time to further research the application of teleportation magics once you receive proper funding from the Ministry."

Wise words. Snape, it seemed, was well aware how these types of political games were played. The dark witch turned to see a smiling Hermione. "Looks like our adventure is just beginning," Hermione chuckled.

"Sometimes I feel like my life has only just begun," Bellatrix replied. "Late-bloomer, indeed."

Bellatrix and Hermione snuggled for a bit. Honestly, she couldn't give a toss about further research, but as long as her Hermione would be happy, so would she. Hermione leaned into her, laying her head on her shoulder.

Oddly enough, she found Snape frowning at them.

"What?" Bellatrix challenged.

"Oh, it might be nothing," said Snape. "We spoke last Friday, miss Granger. And I could have sworn your hair was longer then. Have you visited a hair-dresser yesterday, perhaps?"

Hermione blinked. "What? My hair?!"

"Hm," said Bellatrix. "Now that you mention it."

Hermione blanched. "A mirror! I need a mirror! AND A MEASURING RIBBON!" she yelped, getting up from the sofa and rushing to the cabinet with the mirror worked in its door. She stood in front of it, desperately checking the length of her hair while Draco rushed to her with a measuring ribbon in hand.

After watching her young girlfriend's increasingly panicked antics, Bellatrix leaned forward to whisper to Snape. "And they say you have no sense of humor."

The corners of Snape's mouth formed into the smallest of grins.


	21. That Which Survives

With the start of the school year also came the first round of monthly Rugnarok matches. It was an event most of the people of Hogmeade and the student body had been looking forward too. As the date of the first matches swiftly approached, Hermione had been starting to spend more and more time at the pitch for practice.

The big day had finally arrived, the pitch was full of cheering people and, just like before summer, Bellatrix was helping out Lily in the infirmary. However, Bellatrix spent more time watching the games than actually helping out, especially when Ravenclaw was up.

The matches up to this point had been particularly brutal and today's final round, which was Ravenclaw vs Slytherin, looked to be the most grueling of all matches today. Slytherin's interceptors were in form and moved as one on their carpets as they hunted down the Ravenclaw dodgers one by one in a relentless mallet-wielding wolf pack.

But what was even worse is that Hermione was docked a point for her team for supposedly flying too high. There were cheers, hollers and protests from the crowd, and judging from her miffed expression, Hermione was none too pleased either.

But nobody, absolutely nobody, was more enraged than Bellatrix Black. "HAVE YOU GOT SHIT IN YOUR EYES?! SHE WAS PERFECT! SHE _IS_ PERFECT!" she shrieked at the top of her lungs. "I'M BLIND, I'M DEAF! I WANNA BE A REF!"

"Whoa!" Lily chuckled as she was done tending to the 'victims' of the last match. The Gryffindor team had been given such a trouncing that most of the team was lying on cots being tended to by Lily for numerous broken bones.

"Bastard! I hate him!" Bellatrix hissed. Outside, in the rink, Hermione had steeled herself against this disappointment and gave the avoidance of the Slytherin interceptors first priority. The Slytherin wolf pack seemed to be going after the weaker targets first and, though the Ravenclaw interceptors gave it a valiant effort, they weren't able to do much about it. One of the Ravenclaw dodgers, a girl she didn't know, made a mistake and dodged in the wrong direction. She was swiftly surrounded the Slytherins and literally punted off her carpet by a trio of hits from mallets. Bellatrix hissed when the girl was launched into the side of the rink with an audible crash after which gravity did its thing and caused her to slide down the wall. The safety net caught her, but when the goblins collected her and wheeled her into the infirmary, the girl wasn't conscious or moving.

The second Ravenclaw dodger went down scant a minute later. So now it was all up to Hermione, who had four interceptors hot on her tail and five minutes left on the clock. Those Ravenclaw interceptors still up were ignored by the Slytherins who focused all their efforts on decisively winning the match by taking down Hermione.

Still, Hermione wasn't having it. She steered her carpet through a turn so sharp, it would send lesser athletes hurtling to the ground. Two interceptors overshot her completely, giving her some breathing room. Bellatrix grinned when Hermione steered her carpet into 180 degree turn with full speed and shot back to dive in between the other two interceptors giving chase. The crowd cheered for Hermione.

Bellatrix stole a look towards the rafters. There, in the staff booth, sat Andie and Tom, apparently enjoying the match just as much as they were enjoying each other's company on their date. Still, no time to worry about that and Andie could handle herself. It was Hermione who now deserved her full attention.

Her young girlfriend changed her flight direction and swooped down towards the infirmary. Hermione zipped by and turned towards her, making a spectacle by rather overtly blowing her a kiss. In that moment, Bellatrix' heart went aflutter: Hermione had a way of making her feel like a schoolgirl again.

Unfortunately, this rather foolish bit of showboating came back to bite Hermione. As she steered her carpet upwards, one of the Slytherin interceptors blindsided her and clipped her with her mallet. Hermione cried out in pain, grasped her side and staggered on top of her carpet. Bellatrix let out a litany of curses while a hush came over the crowd... for a moment, it seemed as if Hermione would be going down.

But then she recovered, dug her heels in and commanded her carpet to shoot forward with massive speed. One minute left on the clock and, against all odds, Hermione was still standing and now more determined than ever. The first thing Hermione did was to do on the offensive: she turned her carpet and sped towards the interceptors with blinding speed. The interceptors, obviously, were not expecting this. Hermione sped closer and closer without any indication that she was going to dodge.

It was a gamble on her part. And only Hermione would decide to play a game of chicken with a Sytherin wolf-pack.

One of the Slytherin interceptors panicked and dove to one side, accidentally knocking his team-mate off her carpet and losing his mallet in the process, effectively taking himself out of the game.

30 seconds left on the clock.

The remaining interceptors were after her now, but Hermione was smarter. Two interceptors were easier to avoid than four and she had effectively broken their strategy. No more showboating, no more trick moves... all she did was to simply outrun them and stay out of range. It was over and they knew it.

The clock struck and the match was called. Ravenclaw had won the day and Hermione had brought them their victory.

The crowd sheered and Hermione loved every moment of it! She threw her arms in the air and let out a cheer. Bellatrix felt her chest swell with pride as she watched her girlfriend fly towards the dug-out near the infirmary. She immediately excused herself to Lily and rushed over.

When she arrived, a laughing Hermione was already being hoisted up in the air by her cheering teammates while others were spraying her with a bottle of champagne. That make Bellatrix bristle: only _she_ got to pour wine over Hermione's skin... preferably when they were both naked in bed and it would have to be licked off her toned abs!

Still, she let Hermione have her moment. She was their star player, the team's most skilled asset who outshone them all by a country mile. The others simply could not compare to her in any way.

"Bella!" Hermione shouted over the chorus of cheers. "Put me down, lads!"

Hermione was put down on her feet and she rushed over to her girlfriend. In that moment, Hermione was panting, drenched in sweat and champagne, but she still looked absolutely gorgeous. Bellatrix wrapped her arms around her kissed her on the lips.

"I see you've taken a liking to Rugnarok," Hermione chuckled when gloved hands found her curly mane.

"Only when my girlfriend is playing," the dark witch smirked. "Ready for the big day tonight?"

Hermione looked over her shoulder to make sure that her teammates were out of earshot. "You have no idea how hard it has been to keep this quiet. Tonight the world is going to change, Bella. And we'll be on the front-lines of it all."

"Not sure how I feel about that yet," Bellatrix grimaced. "It's going to draw a lot of attention to us."

"You've got nothing to worry about, Bella," smiled Hermione. "Nobody is going to steal me away from you."

"It's not that..." Bellatrix replied. "My socialite _and_ my battle-witch days are over. I rather enjoy the quiet life."

"Who says that will change. I..." Hermione suddenly hissed and grabbed her side.

Bellatrix narrowed her eyes and reached out to fiddle with Hermione's Rugnarok armor. A sly grin came over her. "What? Right here? In front of everybody?" Hermione smirked. "Kinky! At least drag me over the showers for some privacy..."

"Hush," Bellatrix returned, not in the mood for flippancy. "You're clearly in pain."

The dark witch lifted Hermione's uniform to just under her breast and hissed when she saw a large dark bruise on the side of her girl's chest where the interceptor had hit her with her mallet.

"Just a bruise," Hermione grimaced. "I've had much worse..."

Bellatrix pursed her lips. "Infirmary."

"Bella, really, I'm fine!"

"Infirmary! Now!"

A few moments later, Lily was examining a prone Hermione by roving her wand over her bruise and came to a swift conclusion. "Two of your ribs are broken," said Lily. "After taking a hit like that, it's not surprising. Here, drink this..."

A potion of skele-grow was put to Hermione's lips and, the moment it was emptied, Hermione seemed much more comfortable. "Bellatrix? Will you apply some ointment to heal the bruise? Seems only fair since she's _your_ girlfriend."

Bellatrix nodded, took the ointment, rubbed some on her hands and then gently massaged it onto a blissfully smiling Hermione's skin. Her young girlfriend closed her eyes and was groaning contently. "Hmm, I should break my ribs more often."

"No, you don't," Bellatrix spoke through clenched teeth.

"You two have come a long way since your arrival, Bella," Lily said. "And Severus can't stop talking about the amazing discovery you've make."

Bellatrix snorted while massaging her now purring girlfriend. "I didn't expect Snape of all people to have loose lips."

"Hmm..." Hermione closed her eyes and grinned. "You keep this up, Bella, and I'll have to drag you somewhere private for a quickie."

Next to her, Lily let out a snort. "Pansy always gets a lot of business selling contraceptives to the Rugnarok teams after a match," she smirked. "Lots of pent up aggression needing relief."

"So that's why I spotted her underneath the rafters," Bellatrix muttered while Hermione's purring had turned into groaning.

"We'll need to get ready for tonight," Bellatrix pressed.

Hermione's expression could best be described as one of cheeky euphoria. "We'll need to shower, though. Hmmmm..."

That made Lily laugh. "I'll, uhm, give you two a moment."

"Right," returned Bellatrix. "See you tonight, Li..."

Her sentence was cut off when two storm arms moved to encircle her waist to pull a surprised Bellatrix onto the cot.

* * *

By now it had been three weeks since Hermione's successful transport and the experiment had been one of the best guarded secret in the wizarding world. Paperwork had to be done first, which had been a joint venture between Snape and Narcissa. Patents were filed, contracts were signed, deals were made and Snape had done a lot of lobbying in the background. Naturally, he was hoping that after tonight, Hogwarts would be on the forefront of teleportation research.

Bellatrix found herself standing in this world's Ministry of Magic, located in Edinburgh. A place she hadn't been ever since those ill-fated days in the Department of Mysteries, she found the place as dull and dreary as the Ministry back home. Still, it was oddly freeing to be able to move through the Ministry, especially in a courtroom where in another world almost a lifetime ago, she had been condemned to Azkaban for the rest of her life.

Then, she had been battered, bruised and chained to a chair. Now she was standing here wearing the finest of clothing, along with her family, as she was about to participate in a demonstration which would literally change this world forever. Quite a change.

Humbling, really. To literally change a world which wasn't even hers.

Though Bellatrix supposed she should stop seeing this world as 'not hers'.

In truth, her family never looked neater, all clad in dress robes and the traditional pointed wizard hat. It had been while since she had worn one, to be honest. The only anomaly among them was Hermione, whom had elected to wear her lovely evening gown. The gown, however, did not match well with a pointed hat and since headwear was expected during a session of the Wizengamot, Bellatrix had given her her black baret to wear tonight.

Lucius was one big bundle of nerves. He looked through the curtains as the Wizengamot was going through their scheduled program. They'd be up in less than five minutes if the current discussion didn't run late. "What if we fail?" Lucius muttered. "What if something goes wrong? I..."

"Lu," started Narcissa. "You can't fail. Charms have been set. You've been doing test runs all week. We've all rehearsed this so many times."

That much was true. Hermione had gone through the teleport at least twenty times so far. At this point, Bellatrix was no longer concerned because this form of magic was now a proven concept. Luna adjusted her robe. Draco drank from a glass of water while Hermione shifted from one foot to the other, not really used to walking on high heels all that much. Bellatrix herself wasn't really all that impressed; she'd already handled the toughest crowd in existence during her own show trial. This would be a cinch.

Finally, the curtain fell and the teleportation setup was revealed. The Grand Warlock announced them, but unfortunately Lucius looked to be a deer in the headlights. Again, the Grand Warlock motioned for him to speak.

Silence.

"Uhm, mister Lucius Malfoy," pushed the Grand Warlock. "You may speak."

More silence

Until Bellatrix gave him a less-than-subtle kick to the side of his leg.

"Ah, uhm, yes," Lucius gulped. "Esteemed gentle-wizards and lady-witches of the Wizengamot and the gathered press. I am Lucius Malfoy and I am here to share with you our success, recently patented with the Ministry. First all of, these are the members of the team responsible for this new wonder of magic. Myself, of course. My son Draco Malfoy and our friends Hermione Granger, Luna Lovegood and Bellatrix Black. I'd also like to thank my wife Narcissa and my sister-in-law Andromeda behind the curtains for their unwavering support, and the official Ravenclaw house-ghost Bella who could unfortunately not join us today. We've all been working hard for years to bring this branch of magic, of which many said it could never work, to reality."

Bellatrix stole a glance at Lucius, finding him to be sweating like a pig. Quickly, everyone took their positions while the Wizengamot looked on in silence. An apple was placed on the departing platform, Bellatrix and Luna cast the necessary spells and the apple was swiftly transported to the receiving platform.

Murmurs started to go through the gathered crowd as Ministry observers started to examine first the apple and then the device.

Then, it was Hermione's turn. She stood on the platform and apparently couldn't resist doing a little bit of showboating. She took on a heroic pose, thrusting her chest forward and adopted a rather dapper expression. "Energize!" she yelled over to Bellatrix and Luna. Bellatrix wasn't sure if she or Luna rolled her eyes the hardest, but the two witches got to casting regardless.

Hermione disappeared with a magical crack, and instantly reappeared on the receiving platform. The murmurs turned to gasps as Hermione jumped off and stepped back to stand next to Bellatrix, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

"No trickery," shouted one of the observers. "Genuine magic! It works!"

Murmurs went to silence. Then, almost as one, the members of the Wizengamot stood up to give the gathered group of researchers a standing ovation. Instantly, journalists rushed forward and the blinding lights of the many flashing cameras kept going and going and going.

Truth be told Bellatrix didn't like this at all: the reaction felt a little too rehearsed... too choreographed. No doubt there was more than one of these vulture-politicians scheming to use this new school of magic to their own advantage. They'd have to be on their guard.

Meanwhile, Lucius was overwhelmed by it all, tears in his eyes.

"Look at him," smiled Hermione, raising her voice to be able to speak over the volume of the applause. "That's the face of a man who's finally gotten the recognition he's always wanted after thirty years of trying. I'm so happy for him."

"Hm," Bellatrix replied softly. "Remember this moment, Hermione. Our lives will never be the same."

"Fame and fortune isn't your thing?" Hermione gave her a smirk.

"I've had my fair share of wealth and infamy. Others can have it," said Bellatrix, a smile on her lips. "All I want is you."

It was then that Hermione kissed her on the lips, not caring about the gathered crowd or the many journalists taking photos.

"So much for discretion," Bellatrix grinned and promptly kissed her back.

* * *

The next few moments had been a flurry of madness as all of them had been stormed by journalists, politicians and academics alike with thousands of questions ranging from the inane to the insanely detailed. Though she did her best to field any questions aimed at her, Bellatrix was starting to feel a mite claustrophobic as she was being swamped and surrounded by hundreds of people. Hermione was in much the same state, bombarded with thousands of questions about what she had experienced during the teleportation itself.

There was one particularly vexing woman whom could only ask questions about personal relationships between the group of researchers, once more proving the old adage that when an astronomer pointed at the sky, the wise man looked at the stars while the fool looked at the finger.

Thankfully, she and Hermione saw chance to escape and quickly rushed away from the small army of people. Hermione expressed some guilt at throwing the others under the bus, but that quickly passed as it was obvious that, Lucius at least, was having the time of his life trying to explain teleportation mechanics in a vastly over-complicated way to an overwhelmed crowd of journo's.

They excited the building and found themselves in the oldest part of Edinburgh, where the Ministry was located. Together, they strolled through the winding streets among the old buildings. Hermione's lovely evening gown... and, of course, her lovely body inside of said evening gown... was attracting a bit of attention here and there, and Bellatrix had to silence a few passersby with the deadliest glare she could muster. Hermione, for her part, didn't seem to mind as much.

They rested at small park next to the Waters of Leith, the main river running through Edinburgh. Leaning on the wall with the calm waters flowing towards the sea below them, they both enjoyed a cigarette.

"Bella," Hermione spoke softly after both had finished their cigarettes, her hand on Bellatrix's shoulder. "You don't _have_ to do this, you know?"

"Yes," Bellatrix replied. "I _do_."

In the palm of her hand lay the silver pendant shaped in the skull of a jackdaw. It was one of two things she had brought from her own world, the other being her wand. But it was this pendant which held the most meaning. An ancient family heirloom almost a thousand years old, passed from mother to eldest daughter, it stood as a symbol of purity and the strength and power of the witches of The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black.

It was gifted to her by her mother when she'd come of age. She had worn it when she first attended the clandestine meetings where she had first met the dark lord. She had worn it with pride when he had bestowed the dark mark upon her. She had worn it during her wedding. She had worn it during raids, wore it with pride while torturing the Longbottoms. After Azkaban, she had worn it again in the second wizarding war, worn it during the assault on Hogwarts, worn it... while viciously torturing the Hermione Granger of her own world. The girl next to her, the same and yet so different, who was now looking at her with loving eyes.

The pendant had become the symbol of everything which had gone wrong in her life. Now that she was rebuilding her life, now that she was healing, it felt wrong to continue to wear it.

She tilted her hand slightly, letting it slide off her palm. The pendant fell, meeting the Waters of Leith. It quickly disappeared beneath the water, as did the ripples it had caused, until there was no sign of it left.

Bellatrix didn't think she'd feel as relieved as she did. A circle had been broken, in a way. She turned to look a smiling Hermione in the eye. The younger witch stood closer to her and lay her head on her shoulder. "Remind me to buy you something nice to replace it," Hermione spoke softly. "You know, as soon as I have something resembling an income."

"Hah," Bellatrix muttered. "Judging by the raving politicians back at the Ministry, I don't think you'll have to wait long. Your name's on the patent too, remember?"

"As is yours," smiled Hermione. "Funny, really. I didn't think my life would take this many sudden turns."

"You want to talk about lives taking sudden turns?" Bellatrix raised an eyebrow, causing Hermione to giggle. She then lay her head on Hermione's shoulder, enjoying her closeness.

Together they stood at the riverside, watching the water flow calmly towards the sea.


	22. For The World is Hollow and I Have Touched the Sky

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to the epilogue and final chapter to Mirror, mirror. Thank you for reading the story and I hope you've been enjoying it. It's been great returning to the world of Bellamione and I have plenty of new stories coming up. I know this story hasn't been for everyone (which I quite understand). My next one will be a more 'traditional' Bellamione story (if such things exist!) titled Self-Prevention and will start next week with the usual weekly updates.
> 
> I hope you enjoy this final chapter.

Stood behind her humble stove, Bellatrix looked out the window. It was snowing quite fiercely outside, blanketing the land outside in the whitest of snow. Christmas would be white this year. Inside her shack, however, it was nicely warm and cozy and would remain so throughout the winter.

How quickly a life could completely change. If one had told her last Christmas that, in a year's time, she would be decorating a Christmas tree in her own home together with her muggle-born live-in girlfriend, she would have laughed. And then likely hexed that person into next Wednesday for daring to insult her as such. As it stood, her past life felt as if it was a distant memory.

Truth be told, they were rather late with their Christmas tree. There'd been fierce debates with Hermione at the dining table every day in the first weeks of December; a debate which Bellatrix ultimately lost as was evidenced by their lovely tree which now stood proud and fierce near the fireplace. Unfortunately, they found out quickly that the tree wasn't dog-proof as an excited Spock basically cleared the lowest tier of decorations from tree with a single sweep of his wagging tail. Some repair work later and they were up and running again. Though, this time, a charm was applied which would subtly nudge the dog away from the tree if he ever got close again.

Bellatrix had learned the valuable lesson that a simpler life could be its own reward. No more dark lords to follow, no more wars to fight, no more night raids, nothing more of the 'wizarding aristocracy' she used to be part of. Living in a cozy little shack and doing simple yet worthwhile work could be so fulfilling. No more servants, no elves to wait on her: she cooked regularly now and she daresay her food tasted some much better when made herself.

Of course, when it was Hermione's turn to provide dinner she usually turned to take-away. Not that Bellatrix minded all that much.

She and Hermione would stay over at Hogwarts for the Christmas holidays and Bellatrix was tasked with overseeing the serving of the Christmas Feast for the remaining students and staff members. After that, she and Hermione would join the rest of their family to celebrate the new year at... Azkaban wizarding resort. According to the brochure, it was very nice there this time of year. She would be lying if she said she wasn't dreading the idea of going more and more by the day.

It had been Terry's idea, really. Supposedly it would be good for her to confront her fears. But she'd have her family and Hermione for support if things were to go wrong. Narcissa had even invited her ghostly counterpart to come along, but the ghost girl had politely declined after apparently having already made plans for New Years.

The last six months had been rather tumultuous to say the least. While stirring the chicken in the frying pan, she thought back on everything which had happened since the demonstration at the Wizengamot. Her words turned out to be prophetic: their lives would indeed never be the same. The demonstration had made headlines across the world, turning Lucius, the trio and herself into household names overnight. Magazines profiled all of them. Interviews followed. As a result, Bellatrix's outlandish story became public knowledge. Most were intrigued. Some were suspicious.

Unfortunately, it was then that the wheels of the Ministry started turning. Technically, Bellatrix did not exist as there was no proper paperwork regarding her in the Ministry archives. One particular drone had come to the conclusion that she was the Bellatrix Black of this universe whom had faked her own death and the Ministry proceeded to charge her for thirty years worth of back-taxes. Thankfully, the unusual nature of her case managed to attract the attention of Minerva McGonagall, in this universe a high profile solicitor whom often came out of retirement to take interesting cases while waiving her usual fee. In an unfortunately widely publicized courtcase, McGonagall called Ghost-Bella to the stand to prove that Bellatrix was a separate and unique person. Furthermore, she managed to legally prove that Bellatrix was from another universe by calling on experts to review Lucius' original readings showing that Bellatrix used to have a different magical constant when first arriving.

Unfortunately, this brought even further attention from both the press and the ministry. Constant requests for interviews to the point that Hermione joked that Bella should write a book. The upside was that the Blacks living in Montana were even more eager to meet her and she and Hermione were planning their first vacation together there next summer.

Around this time, Lucius and the others were being courted by every wizarding school in the world. Everyone wanted a piece of this new school of magic and Lucius was more than a little overwhelmed. Narcissa, however, came to the rescue. First of all, a proper royalty contract was deftly negotiated by Narcissa for all researchers involved. Second, after a grueling five-day negotiation with Snape, it was decided that the first Research Department of Teleportation Inquiries would be located at Hogwarts, with Lucius at its head and with proper Ministry funding. Seeing this would bring renewed prestige to the school, Arthur Weasley quickly agreed. Draco and Luna were also assigned to this new task force, with she and Hermione acting in a consulting role for now. Bellatrix smiled to herself: already there were tests being done by connecting fireplaces together. Perhaps in a year or two, three-hour train-rides to Swindon would be a thing of the past.

Unfortunately, the Ministry hadn't been quite done with her yet.

The next visit from the Ministry was from Wizarding Immigration stating that, technically, Bellatrix was an illegal immigrant. Though the case collapsed on technicalities, since any deportations would leave her stateless, it did have the effect of the Ministry developing an entirely new protocol for dealing with inter-dimensional immigration. In exchange for her help with this, the Ministry provided her with all the necessary paperwork and made her an official citizen of the Wizarding UK with all rights and privileges thereof. A humorous turn was taken when, to establish familial ties to the Black family, she had to be officially adopted as a sibling by Andromeda.

Just in time for another drone to decide she'd been in violation before attaining her citizenship. The reason? Being employed while not an official citizen without having applied for a work permit. This time, however, it was the Hogwarts administration which was found negligent and was presented with the appropriate fines. Snape actually did well by her for saying the full responsibility had lain with the school and its 'previous' administrator. He promised everyone involved that he would do right by her, coming off looking like the hero in this whole sordid affair.

Bellatrix approved: Snape was a shrewd, shrewd man.

Hopefully, this would be the last of it. Until another drone would think of something banal to charge her with.

"Arf!" sounded a high-pitched bark besides her, the sound of which rather ill-fit for a dog of that size. Spock had sat down at the stove, looking at her with the saddest eyes only a dog could give when there was food to be had.

"Put those away," Bellatrix glowered. "I just gave you a piece five minutes go."

"Arf!" the dog pressed, pushing his muzzle into Bellatrix's dress.

"Fine!" the dark witch sighed, fished a piece of chicken out of the pan and tossed it into the air where the dog deftly caught it.

As the dog was eating his prize, Bellatrix prepared two plates. She poured off the rice and divided it over the plates, then putting the chicken and the spicy sauce it was cooked in over the rice, creating a very simple yet tasty meal for the both of them. With two plates in hand, she stepped towards the sofa.

All of Hermione's belongings had now found their way into the caretaker's shack now. Her books piled out of the bookcase, the Enterprise model had been hung from the ceiling above their bed and all her muggle contraptions were located in a constructed Faraday cage in the middle of their living room.

She passed the framed poster of Kirk, Spock and McCoy as it was located quite near the bay window where Bellatrix kept her easel. She smiled: Hermione had been so delighted when she had told her girlfriend that she was painting again.

Of course, she also encountered the downside of living with Hermione, as she almost tripped over something left on the floor. As downsides went, this was certainly a minor one. But honestly, was it really _that_ much trouble to pick something up from the floor once in a while?

And then, of course, there was Hermione herself, currently sat on the sofa, wearing a baggy t-shirt, comfortable slacks and a pair for fuzzy footie slippers.

"Smells good!" Hermione greeted as Bellatrix plopped down on the sofa next to her. "What's for dinner?"

"Chicken vindaloo," Bellatrix said, giving Hermione her plate.

Where her Dark Lord stood for great magical power, a place by his side as he ruled and a grand pure-blood society he would build, Hermione stood for love, happiness and self-improvement. And, of course, new beginnings.

Hermione cuddled up against her as they started to eat their dinner. A cozy fire roared as she popped a piece of chicken in her own mouth. While Bellatrix enjoyed the fruits of her own cooking, Hermione added to the cozy feeling by laying her head on her shoulder.

Content. In that moment, she was utterly content.

"So," asked Bellatrix as their evening post-dinner ritual began. "What's Captain Kirk up to today?"

"Let's find out!" smiled Hermione as she handled the little black button-y boxwand she operated the muggle viewing machine with. A few moments later, the familiar fanfare sounded as the starship Enterprise entered standard orbit around some planet or other. Truth be told, it was more about spending time with Hermione than whatever on the screen, but there were certainly worse ways to pass the time.

Also, there was the fact that the both of them had finally heeded Lily's advice and had decided to quit smoking together. So basically any distraction from the dire nicotine-starvation was welcomed.

With the first royalty checks coming in there was a more-than-nice amount of extra income between the both of them. They had discussed buying a nice house in the wizarding quarter of Swindon: it was close to their family, both of them could still help out Lucius with his research while Hermione could still pursue her dream of becoming an electrician. It seemed perfect. Or Hermione could simply stay in the wizarding world after graduation: become a permanent member of Lucius' team. That way, Bellatrix could stay on as caretaker or perhaps join the team as well. Perhaps they could live at Malfoy manor, as Narcissa was using Lucius' first royalty money to have the manor restored. More recently, Hermione had expressed desire to become a construction witch: even the wizarding world required skilled people to build things for them. Also, Bellatrix had been subtly trying to press Hermione into at least considering the myriad of offers from professional Rugnarok teams as she definitely had it in her to go pro. Perhaps Bellatrix could now live a more humble life and become the artist she had always wanted to be in her youth.

Point was that they both had a future. One of choices and endless possibilities.

One thing was left to do. Bellatrix had bought a nice ring a few weeks ago and it had been burning a hole in her pocket ever since. She was simply waiting for the right moment to ask Hermione to be her wife, but there was no hurry yet. She could wait at least until Hermione had graduated. Perhaps for one hell of a gift for her twenty-first birthday.

Bellatrix snaked her hand underneath the hem of Hermione's baggy T-shirt and started gently rubbing her abs, causing the girl to giggle somewhat. If the pattern of the previous day held, Hermione would soon lay her head on her lap and watch the rest of the episode prone on the sofa.

"Hermione?" Bellatrix asked.

"Hm?" replied the younger witch, those soulful brown eyes gazing into hers. Soulful brown eyes that were only for her.

"Thank you," Bellatrix whispered.

"For what?" Hermione asked.

"For shoving that bezoar down my throat."

Hermione gave her the warmest possible smile and pressed her lips against hers for a moment. They kissed happily before turning back to the screen to see Captain Kirk and Dr. McCoy walking through the corridors of the Enterprise. There was nothing left to be said.

The future could bring many new things for her, but one thing Bellatrix knew for certain: whatever happened, her Hermione would be in it.

* * *

Elsewhere, laying on her side of the snow, Ghost-Bella looked down from her perch on top of a high hill in the distance. From her vantage point, she could just see the caretaker's shack over the castle wall. It looked quite cozy, its thatched roof covered with snow as lights shone through the windows and smoke came from the chimney. It was a sight right out of those old Victorian postcards she used to collect when she'd been little... and alive.

Still, she was content. Happy for her friends. Happy for her other self. And, more importantly, happy for her _own_ self.

Her head lay rested in the lap of a most beauteous creature. Long flowing black hair, a soft robe, beautiful empty eye-sockets... A skeletal hand ran through her ghostly hair as her beloved Sarah had finally deemed to acknowledge her presence enough to decide that she actually did quite like to have her around.

Ghost-Bella closed her eyes and enjoyed this happy moment. Around her the snow had melted as for the first time in decades, warmth radiated from her ghostly body.

* * *

Yet elsewhere, literally universes apart, Hermione Granger was looking through a deeply modified pensieve, a literal eye between worlds. In the magical waters, she could see Bellatrix Lestrange and the Hermione Granger of that other world sharing the sofa in their home.

A most peculiar thing had happened during the Battle of Hogwarts, now so long ago. During the battle, Bellatrix Lestrange had disappeared. And where she had stood appeared a plump round green apple. She didn't really think much of it at the time: transfiguration was nothing new and being transformed into an apple certainly meant Bellatrix was no longer in the fight.

But then the strangest thing happened: it turned out to be a normal, regular apple. Deeper research revealed that something odd had happened due to the powerful concentrated magical discharges in the Great Hall at the time. By a chance of one to a billion in the tenth power, it connected to a magical discharge in another universe which caused Bellatrix and the apple to swap places.

Which meant Bellatrix Lestrange was on the loose. But Hermione Granger was on the case, and she would make certain that Bellatrix Lestrange would not escape her just punishment.

She had swiftly discovered that there was a magical connection still between the apple, now magically preserved in a glass case, and Bellatrix. A connection she could follow and, with some alterations to a pensieve, could actually see what Bellatrix was up to in the other world.

What she saw at first frightened her: Bellatrix was up to her old tricks at Hogwarts, lying and manipulating people. Another thing was that she was quite dismayed when she first saw her counterpart: she quite considered the other Hermione a flake, an academic disgrace and far too naive for her liking. That she'd be friends with that ferret-face Malfoy, different and nicer though he seemed to be, did not endear the other Hermione to her either.

This led to utter shock the moment she saw the other Hermione kiss Bellatrix: it caused her to hasten her efforts since the other Hermione obviously needed to be protected from herself. The poor girl obviously had no idea who she was dealing with.

But... something changed along the way. Hermione watched as the other Hermione prevented Bellatrix's suicide and couldn't help but cry right along with her when she told her tale about losing the only family she had left to a suicide. She wasn't ashamed to admit that she had taken the rest of the day off to spend some time with her dad at Camden market. It made her realize just how lucky she was to still have her family, unlike the other Hermione.

She gasped when she first realized what was happening between Bellatrix and the other Hermione. Love. Actual mutual love. Something she didn't think the dark witch could be capable off. She actually had to steel herself to continue the work, remembering that this was still the woman whom had tortured and maimed her, the magical wound still opening at times being a stark reminder.

Then came Bellatrix's therapy sessions, which she watched with both a horrid fascination as well as a growing sense of shame, feeling much like a voyeur considering the deeply personal things Bellatrix discussed with her therapist. Still, it did a lot to change her views on Bellatrix even more.

She had cheered when Hermione successfully appeared on the other side of the teleportation contraption in Lucius' lab and actually smiled when the dark witch rushed to the other Hermione, hugged her tightly and told her she loved her.

Then came all the business with the Ministry. Well, it was somewhat comforting to know that, despite the many difference between their universes, Ministerial bureaucratic nonsense was still a constant.

Honestly, Harry had often joined her for these viewings and honestly he seemed to be more curious about the differences between world. He rather liked the idea of Professor Snape and his mother being alive, happy and together somewhere, even if that meant he didn't exist in that world. In fact, the both of them had a really good chuckle about Voldemort being the muggle studies teacher: part of her wished she could see the look on that old snake's face if he'd been able to find out. The Tom Riddle of that world seemed like a nice chap, really, and a stark improvement over theirs. Dating Andromeda Black, even. It made her wonder what could have been.

Unfortunately, Hermione did catch Bellatrix and the other Hermione in some very private moments. Usually, she quickly shut those off. She had standards, after all. Thing is, it was getting a bit harder to avoid as the two of them were like bunnies. Hermione knew better than to tune in at night, but there were plenty of times in the day when they'd be having it off: in a bloom closet, in the library, on the jetty, in random empty classrooms. Apparently those two had never heard of the term 'no sex, please. We're British!'.

But one time Harry was actually with her and she couldn't shut it off quickly enough. In fact, Harry couldn't stop apologizing to her, since he had effectively seen his best friend naked and... _doing things_ to Bellatrix. Even though it hadn't really been her but another version of her, that particular technicality wasn't exactly comforting. Hermione stopped short of obviating him, but made him promise to take what he had seen into the grave.

Yes, she absolutely _was_ insanely jealous of the other Hermione's sculpted abs. There was no denying it.

That left them where they were today. She had actually finished the work weeks ago. In front of her lay a scroll containing all necessities to, essentially, yank Bellatrix back into her own universe. But to this day, she hadn't told anyone except Harry.

"I just can't do it, Harry," Hermione shook her head. "If it had just been a few days after she'd arrived in that world, sure. But now?"

"That's still Bellatrix Lestrange, Hermione," said Harry, but it sounded as if he was trying to convince himself of that too.

"Is she?" Hermione frowned. "Look at her. She's the Hogwarts Caretaker, is in a loving relationship with a muggle-born and is watching old Star Trek episodes with her. Is that something you see Bellatrix Lestrange do?"

"Not the person she used to be, at least," Harry replied. "But it's moot."

"Is it?" Hermione asked. "Is it really? You've been on this wild trip me with me, Harry. You've seen enough. Heard her speak. See her change. Her life doesn't just belong to her, Harry. It belongs to everyone she touches."

Wise words. From her other self, back when Bellatrix had decided to end it all. Over the months she had watched the two of them develop, grow and change, curiosity had turned into sympathy.

"I just can't do it, Harry," Hermione repeated. "I can't do this to the other Hermione. I can't take the love of her life away from her. She's lost so much already. And what about the new family Bellatrix has? What about them?"

"So what's the alternative, Hermione?" asked Harry. "We leave Bellatrix Lestrange unpunished?"

"Haven't we had enough death and misery?" Hermione said. "If we destroy this newfound happiness, we won't be a hair better than Voldemort was."

"Don't say that, Hermione," said Harry. "This is different."

"Is it?" Hermione replied. "Is it really?"

"I know what she did you you."

"Harry," smiled Hermione. "I forgave her a long time ago."

"Decision is yours," said Harry. "But what are we going to tell the Wizengamot?"

"The truth," said Hermione. "Bellatrix Lestrange is gone. And she's never coming back."

"That's not exactly the truth, Hermione," challenged Harry.

"Perhaps not. But it's not exactly a lie either," replied Hermione as she regarded her other self and Bellatrix cuddled up on their sofa in their lovely home, sharing a brief kiss.

Hermione felt a great weight fall off her shoulders as, in her mind, she had finally come to a decision. A smile to Harry later, Hermione took the scroll and held it into the candle on her desk. Months of work went up in flames. Then, to make sure no one could ever continue her work, she took out her wand and aimed it at the apple. A spell shot out, disintegrating it on a molecular level and permanently severing the connection between Bellatrix and her home universe.

In front of them, the image of the other Hermione and Bellatrix together on their sofa in the pensieve started to fade.

"Goodbye you two. I wish you both the very best," Hermione smiled as the last thing she would see of the two women would be the other Hermione laying her head on Bellatrix' lap while the dark witch gently stroked her long brown hair.


End file.
